


Welcome to the Jungle (On Hiatus)

by MarkNutt2014



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, ビースターズ | BEASTARS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherhood, Child Soldiers, Drug Use, Gen, Gun Jargon, Halo Lore, Original Character(s), SPARTAN-II, SPARTAN-III, Self-Harm, Spartans Have Feelings, bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkNutt2014/pseuds/MarkNutt2014
Summary: In the wake of Reach's destruction at the hands of the Covenant a new Spartan team, Gold Team, is formed. During their transfer to Nassau Station a freak slipspace anomaly occurs, sending the team through space and time. Crash landing back on Earth, the team finds the human home world no longer under human control. (On Hiatus)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 90





	1. F.U.B.A.R.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, I'm Mark. This is my first time doing anything remotely like this and to be honest I'm not sure what I'm doing entirely. It's fun and I'll try to upload every two weeks or so. Thanks for taking the time to read. Hope it's good and comments/criticisms are appreciated.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FOR BEASTAR MANGA READERS

The cabin section was filled with click clacking of various firearms as the Pelican passed through Earth’s orbit. The hulking forms of five Spartans occupied the space, all checking their equipment despite knowing they were combat ready. Pieces fell into place as they always had, much like each soldier currently onboard. Maximum efficiency is a necessity for any military unit, but Spartans needed to be better. While not perfect, they were closer than any other asset in the UNSC. The meticulous selection, the strict training, the detailed augmentations; it was all to come as close to perfection as humanly possible. Coincidentally, this human refining process makes one subjectively more machine-like. This is why the cabin’s lack of stoicism would be seen as a type of anomaly to those who know of such superhumans. Even with the helmets, one could feel the animosity in the air with the way they handled their weapons.

Most of the bitterness emanated from the four comparatively smaller soldiers, while the largest one seemed more familiar with the atmosphere. He wore a brand-new Mjolnir VI set of armor with the number 444 engraved on the bottom right corner of his chest plate. His M739 SAW was laid in his lap. Numerous crudely etched tallies surrounded the name James on the weapon.

Across from the heavy was a similarly outfitted Spartan with a slightly more feminine frame. She practiced switching from her Battle Rifle’s scope to its canted iron sights. Her movements were fierce from muscle memory and it made her loose dog tags bob. The primary bead ring held a tag that read Tina-B306, O+. The secondary ring held three more tags: Danny-B211, Rome-B073, and Eliza-B129.

Down the row of Tina’s side was a trio of SPI armored troops. Two sat next to each other as they checked their matching MA5K Carbines in unison. They tossed magazines to each other before popping them into their weapons and locking onto imaginary targets. The two would then depress the mag release button and swap as the procedure began again.

The third and smallest of the group was by themself. The sole soldier simply tinkered with their M7S’s smart-linked sights, making sure it was flawlessly synced to their HUD.

Their eagerness spoke louder than words. This pack was out for blood. Reach, one of the last bastions of humanity, was abandoned little more than a month ago. News of the fallen shield world had just recently hit the Solar System, and new orders were dished out just as quick. The freshly formed Gold Team was en route to Nassau Station where they would link up with their last Spartan element, Nicole-458. A little static came over the Spartan’s communication channel before the female voice of one the pilots came over the air.

“Lieutenant Commander.”

Tina set her BR to rest before answering. “Go ahead Major.”

“We’re on final approach to Nassau Station. ETA 3 Mike.”

“Affirmative Major. Anything new come over the air about our op?“ The Lieutenant already knew the answer to her question. Being thorough is simply customary.

“Negative Sierra. Looks like I’m not in the circle of trust on this one.”

Just as she’d suspected. The specific armaments of the team seemed CQC oriented. It was more than likely they would be sent for a small sabotage operation. Perhaps a vulnerable cruiser or base that they could slip into, however, they would need a stealth ship or drop pods to get close enough. “Hate to hear it, Kilo-550. I know you would have gotten us there.”

“Lieut-”

In less than a moment the Spartan’s communications went out. Tina stood and snatched open the small door to the cockpit. Her visor shielded her eyes from the bright light that was beaming through the hardened glass. When it was correctly adjusted, she bore witness to the UNSC stealth ship, Apocalypso, colliding with Nassau station.

A bubble-like wave of brilliant blues burst from the impact, rippling through the surrounding space. It slowed before just barely enveloping their stagnant ship, killing their engines. There was no respite from the chaos as the tail section violently jerked to the side, smashing the standing Spartan against the metal wall. When Tina managed to orientate herself again, she saw they were now in some type of slipspace. Looking at their pilots she noted the male in the forward seat was slumped over, though a heartbeat was still registering. The Major’s blue visor was shattered on one side, but she remained conscious.

Tina pulled the forward pilot out and handed him off to one of the SPI twins who quickly began tending to the injured man. The smallest Spartan slid between them and took the empty seat, frantically trying to reestablish power.

Tina returned to the Major and pulled off her helmet. The side of her head was already damp with crimson.

“Damon! Bio-Foam!”

The Spartan who was working on the man in the back tossed a cylinder forward. Tina caught it and altered the nozzle to fit the split on the woman’s head. It fizzed and obviously stung her as she hissed in response.

“Major, what just happened?”

“I couldn’t tell you Spartan. You know and saw just as much as I did.” The woman turned back to her console as the ship began to flitter to life again.

The SPI in the front seat turned back to Tina. A high youthful voice split the air. “Powers back on ma’am and I have control of the front jets, but I’m not getting any response from the rear thrusters.” She turned back to the controls. “This is Sierra G-127 to Nassau Station. Nassau Station come in.” There was no reply.

In the top left-hand corner of Tina’s HUD, a video was being casted from a camera labeled NOMAD. It displayed the back-window’s perspective of what appeared to be the disturbing lack of engines which existed prior to this incident.

A young man’s perturbed voice covered with cynicism came over the channel. “Apologies LT, but we are fresh out of thrusters back here.”

Just as Nomad finished his sentence, the Pelican promptly dropped out of slipspace dangerously close to Earth. The ship began to vibrate as the atmosphere came into effect. Whatever land before them was dark with the moon behind them. The Spartan pilot deployed the air brakes and tilted the wings and jets for maximum drag. Despite her efforts, the altimeter continued to decrease speedily.

The girl’s voice rang through the comms once more. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Pelican Kilo-550 broadcasting on an open frequency! We’ve lost rear thrusters and WE WILL be making a hard landing!” There was no response so 127 searched for a clear place to ‘land’.

There would be no avoiding the large city on their current heading. She found an open field that seemed just far enough away from major buildings to prevent serious damage. Whether or not the ship could stop by then would be another story. The Spartan waved the occupants out of the forward section. “GET OUT OF THE COCKPIT!”

Tina moved the woman to the cabin before closing the door. The smallest Spartan blew the glass canopy away, exposing her armor to the frigid night air and the reality that the ship was rapidly approaching. This was not going to be a happy landing.

* * *

Yafya was patrolling the streets as usual. Strangely enough it had been a quiet night until a whip of thunder cracked through the sky. The problem with that is there were no lightning nor clouds to be seen. The stallion turned to the sound to see what he thought was a shooting star. Upon further inspection he perceived that this too was a falsehood. It was a plane of some type. Bulky and unruly, it bumbled through the sky. He couldn’t recollect any machine that it resembled from memory. Its plummeting course was heading straight for Cherryton Boarding School where it would no doubt crash in a brilliant manner. All the Sublime Beastar could do now was head to the crash site and see if he could mitigate the assured damages it would cause.

Maneuvering from building to building, Yafya wondered what had happened. There wasn’t another plane from what he could tell, and it was too high for a bird to be struck. That ruled out a potential collision. Perhaps it was engine trouble. As far as technology had advanced there was always room for error. Especially when it’s made by the lowest bidder. He may need to have a talk with whatever airline was responsible after this.

Yafya finally made his way through the back entrance of the skyscraper. It would take far too long to go up that hill on foot.

One of his assistants noted his entry. “What do you need sir?”

“Have my mechanic ready my helicopter.” Without another word he entered the elevator and rode it to the appropriate floor. The rodent was already making the arrangements.

* * *

The Pelican was at a forty-five-degree angle to that of the ground, it’s rear landing gear legs outstretched. 127 had done all she could but the ship was still going almost 400 miles per hour. In less than thirty seconds they’d be on the ground. At twenty seconds she finally figured out what they would be landing on. It was an athletic track similar to that in the training base on Onyx. Two tree lines separated the track from the next open space. They would definitely be plowing through both of those.

At ten seconds Kilo-550 was now on its true final approach. It was heading diagonally for maximum ‘runway’ with a grouping of four buildings at the very end. 127 would have to find the sweet spot of not pile driving into the earth and not flying right into what she assumed were apartments.

At five seconds the Spartan called it over the channel. “BRACE FOR IMPACT!”

The landing legs touched first, practically ripping off immediately. Then it sank to the rear of the cabin. The one thing the group had going for them was the 138 metric tons of metal that made bouncing impossible. It was only when the nose of the craft leveled out that 127 decided to duck. This was because the first tree line sent a hefty branch straight through the pilot’s seat, which was swiftly followed by another from the second tree line. Both breakthroughs reduced the Pelican’s speed greatly, but it barreled on as if it were determined to reach the front steps of the building. Try as it might, the ship just had nothing left and just barely broke the concrete of the sidewalk before hitting a standstill.

The Spartan got to her feet and immediately ripped open the cabin’s door to check on her comrades. “Check!”

James gave a thumbs up, having seemingly not moved a muscle since the whole ordeal began.

“Green.” The Lieutenant Commander responded. Being the highest ranking, Tina should’ve been the one to initiate the check, though it really wasn’t important at this point.

“Green,” Damon sounded off before turning to the unconscious pilot. “And Captain Murakami is still with us.”

“Green. Good flying Spartan.” A smile crossed the Major’s lips.

Nomad chuckled. “While I wouldn’t call it flying, it was certainly the most graceful crash I’ve ever been a part of.”

James made a motion for silence. It appeared on all their HUDs simultaneously. Towards the nose of the ship their motion trackers picked something up. The Spartans switched to just their helmet comms.

“Where did we land?” The LC asked Ana.

“Not sure, ma’am. I never connected to any UNSC networks. It’s like we’re in the middle of nowhere.” She checked her tactical arm pad. “There is another network though it’s…”

“It’s what? Covenant?” Nomad inquired, already getting ready for a fight.

“I… have a look for yourself.” Ana said in an almost defeated fashion.

Pictures of anthropomorphic beasts appeared on Gold Team’s helmet screens. They wore suits and ties with briefcases. Dresses with floral adornments. They played with their children, learned in schools, and dined side by side with utensils.

Nomad shook his head in disbelief. “What the fuck is this shit? Is this some kind of a practical joke Ana? It’s not funny.”

“It’s no joke.” The small Spartan stated defensively.

“Hello?” A meek voice called out. There was a beam of light that streamed in through the gaping hole in the cockpit. “Anybody in there?”

“Tem!” Another voice interjected. It was in a half whisper-half yell, like someone calling out to the mouth of a bear cave. “Get back here! You don’t know what’s in there.”

“This is ridiculous, they’re obviously people. I’m going to sort this out.” Nomad said as he approached the door.

Tina snatched his arm before he could make it through. “Cloak first. That’s an order.” She didn’t believe it as much as he did, but one could never be too cautious.

The pissed twin took his arm back. “Yes ma’am.” He then faded into the background as his active camouflage triggered. If not for the friendly marker above his head, he would be effectively invisible.

Avoiding the light, Nomad slinked through the cockpit. His helmet cam displayed everything he saw, which included the bipedal ram currently holding a 21 st century phone and the fearful bear a few feet behind him. Beyond that was a growing animal crowd of all shapes, sizes, and species.

“But what if someone is hurt in there?” The ram questioned.

Several older animals came running out from between the crowd. They herded Tem back towards the main flock and kept them away from the ship.

“Well I’ll be a son of a-” The skeptical soldier started before a thumping started. It was that of a rotor, belonging to an unknown aircraft. The chopper was on its way to the very field they had crashed in. No doubt carrying whatever this place considered a first responder team. Nomad figured they would arrive within the minute at their current speed. Whoever was piloting it seemed decently skilled.

The LC was not one to wait around. “Ana, I want you collecting as much data as you can about this place. Damon, see if you can wake Captain Murakami. I want him ready to move. James, get the back door open. Nomad you’re on me.” Tina’s activated her camo and soon disembarked the downed Pelican.

Yafya expertly guided the helicopter 50 yards away from the rear of the crash. His hefty co-pilot and mechanic, a potbellied pig, took control as he stepped off the vehicle. The rotors were deafening and blew away any possible scents, not that his sense of smell was exceptional. He would have to put his full faith in his vision. The first thing he could recognize was the major damage the carrier had suffered. It looked as if something had ripped off the two pieces that jutted from the back end.

The swine silenced the engine and the rotors slowed. Yafya strolled ever closer as his curiosity grew. That curiosity was soon transformed into hesitancy when the cabin’s main door began lowering. It didn’t get far before the mechanism began crunching, leaving it ajar. Heavy footsteps plodded for a moment before the entrance was snapped downwards, slamming it into the dirt. Something forced it open.

A wall of living metal marched down the bulkhead. Standing at a little more than 7 and a half feet tall, James’ massive frame obscured most of the cabin. Offset behind him was Ana who could easily see the top of Yafya’s head. She was still tapping away at her armpad, it was obvious that she was analyzing him. 

The equine crusader silently prepared himself for whatever was to come. It was painfully clear that these weren’t regular beasts. He doubted that they were even from this planet. The machine that they’d arrived on told him that much. They were far more advanced than anything he’d seen. Worse yet, they were warriors, and dangerous ones at that. Their appearance and weaponry, not to mention the confidence in their movements, made him look meek in comparison. 

He hated this feeling. The feeling of being prey. He’d trained for years to become the greatest Beastar this city had ever seen, and yet in a few seconds it only proved that there was always something greater. Still, he wasn’t dead, and they didn’t appear to be making any clear movements towards him. That’s when he heard a soft voice in the back but couldn’t make out the noise.

“Careful.” The major warned Damon as he lifted the unconscious pilot.

Yafya peered around the side of James the analyst wasn’t on. Inside, one of the warriors was carrying a far smaller being with a pale tone. Mindful of the smaller creature, it placed him on a stretcher and strapped him down. Seeing the stallion look on at his comrades, James sidestepped, forcing Yafya to again look at his opponent. So that was why they hadn’t attacked. They were looking after their wounded.

Light unnaturally shimmered behind him. From thin air two more warriors appeared, weapons at the ready. They had drawn him in and encircled him. A move he could respect but did not enjoy.

“Are you Yafya, the Sublime Beastar?” The feminine voice behind him asked. Her words seemed forced, like a student practicing a new language.

“Yes. May I ask who I’m speaking to?” He thought it best to be formal during this discussion. First impressions and such.

Both of his flankers relaxed in an effort to stifle their outward hostility. “Lieutenant Commander Tina, United Nations Space Command. Leader of Fireteam Gold. Big man in front of you is James, Gold 2. Next to him Ana, Gold 4. Behind them, healing our pilots, is Damon, Gold 5. Nomad, Gold 6, back here with me.”

She looked over their long divot cut into the ground. “Apologies for the mess. Hard landings are never good.” This being her first time talking to a horse, the Spartan thought she was doing rather well.

The Beastar wasn’t surprised by her knowing of him and their language. The one constantly tapping was probably feeding the whole group information as they speak. Honesty would be the best route for this conversation.

He moved some of the torn-up earth with his shoe. “Thank you for your concern about our field Commander, but I hope you understand that your arrival is going to be far more problematic than replanting grass. We’re going to have to get this situation under wraps before the public starts to panic. To start, how is your crew doing?”

Tina and Nomad moved out from their flanking positions while James fully cleared out of the ship. The LC started toward the bulkhead. “We’ve got two cases of head trauma. One minor and one moderate. The moderate is stable but could have internal bleeding with possible swelling. Can he be enrolled into a nearby hospital?”

Yafya nodded. “Yes, they both can. I’ll have my pilot take them now, I can call in another ride.” He pulled out his device and stepped to the side.

“Thank you.” Tina turned back to her team. “5, 6, get the Captain loaded up.” Damon and Nomad acknowledged respectively, taking either side of the stretcher they headed towards the helicopter.

The Major was right behind them. Her face blended in with the dark background and made it hard for Yafya to characterize. “Better not do anything to my bird while I’m gone Spartan. Nothing that hasn’t already been done at least.” She quipped as she passed Tina. Her words were lost on the beast.

“Of course.” The LC watched as they loaded into the aircraft.

Soon both pilots were onboard with the pig. The blades of the helicopter sped up as the engine came back to life.

“Request permission to run escort Lieutenant Commander.” Damon piped up. He’d always put the wellbeing of his comrades first. Tina admired this about him, but she doubted the aircraft could carry the half-ton Spartan.

“Request denied. We’ll leave them in the care of our hosts for now.” A silent acknowledgement appeared in the form a single green blink above Damon’s head. The aircraft was soon up and away.

The stallion finished his conversation a minute later and turned his attention back to the warriors. “Next, should we be expecting anybody else?” It was impossible to get an accurate read of the beings around him. There were no gestures or expressions, and they spoke with flat even tones.

“No.” While her visor faced Yafya, Tina was really looking over their ship. “The event that brought us here was an unusual occurrence. We believe it to be a slipspace anomaly.” The horse looked like he was pondering her statement, most likely out of ignorance. She recognized the fact that he had no idea what she just said and continued. “Slipspace, or slipstream space, is the  dimensional subdomain of alternate spacetime consisting of eleven non-visible infinitesimal dimensions used for faster-than-light travel. In essence, it allows the user to alter the laws of physics of whatever matter passes through it.”

_ Wait, what? Alter the laws of physics? _ It had been a long time since Yafya had been in school, but he remembered laws were things specifically meant to  _ not _ be altered. Then again, he didn’t remember his textbooks mentioning creatures that fell out of the sky. He supposed anything was fair game now. Their conversation was put on hold as he got a message on his phone, he used the time to process his next move. “Apologies. I’ll only be a moment.”

The Spartans had been communicating on their private channel since James had busted down the bulkhead. It mostly consisted of Ana rattling on about the beast’s society, language, and how to properly navigate them both so as to prevent any transgressions. The smallest soldier was rapidly constructing an English to beast dictionary as they spoke. It would take a few days for the team to learn what Tina was actually saying.

127’s research had led her to conclude that this planet is in fact still Earth. These animals seemingly mimicked humanities’ cultural evolutions with one key difference. War. There had only been one major conflict that spanned the majority of the planet. The Carni-Herbi War. The casualties and destruction seemed to be on par The Second World War of the twentieth century, reducing the herbivore population significantly. Then a… whale ended it? Ana set that piece of the story aside, vowing to investigate it in greater depth later.

What followed for the beasts has been a hundred years of negative peace. No open hostilities between territories or species. Sure, there was still violent crime with some of it being organized. But there seemed to be no standing armies, not even a notable militia that she could find. It made her wonder how. Were these Beastars truly that influential that they could just stop war? Ana switched her investigation towards technological advancements. Unfortunately, she could not find anything about major interplanetary space programs, much less faster-than-light travel. “Ma’am, we might be here a while.”

Before the team leader could acknowledge her subordinate, three black cars had come up the hill and around the bend before stopping near the Pelican. The windows were just as dark as the body of the car. A few herbivore guards exited and stood by, waiting. Yafya’s ride had finally arrived. “Perhaps it would be advantageous for all of us if we could continue this conversation elsewhere.”

“I will go, but my team needs to stay here. There is sensitive cargo onboard that cannot be left unattended.” Tina was firm, but still not aggressive. They could not risk leaving any military grade hardware to civilian care. She looked over the small vehicles they would be traveling in. Just like with the helicopter, the car would more than likely struggle under her weight. “I’m going to shed some armor before I leave.”

“As you wish, Commander. I’ll be waiting.” The stallion made his way over to the middle car. Phone cameras flashed from the once scared and confused crowd of students, now in a frenzy having seen the city’s hero deal with the situation.

Tina lumbered into the ship. “Ana, remove all outer shell plating and secondary armor insets.” 4 took a knee beside her leader and began detaching the titanium alloy chunks from her legs.

Nomad didn’t like this. “You sure about this ma’am? That horse looks like a pretty shady character. Wouldn’t turn my back to him if I were you.”

The LC pulled off her helmet. Noticeably short, caramel hair led to the well-shaped face of the female Spartan. “Trust goes both ways. If what Ana said is true, we’re going to need all the trust we can get. Then again...” She stopped Ana before she removed the thigh planting supporting her magnum’s magnetic holster. “There are essentials.”

By the time 4 was done, Tina’s appearance consisted mostly of her nanocomposite bodysuit. She made a final check with her tactical eye/earpiece combo that rested on the left side of her head. The team gave her acknowledgement winks with their HUD lights. “Position yourselves around the Pelican and keep an eye out. James, try to close her back up if you can.”

James gave a thumbs up before dragging his index and ring finger across his faceplate. Tina nodded in return before leaving. “I’m Oscar Mike.” The group followed her out. Damon and Nomad took up spots near the nose of the ship while Ana covered James. The titan slammed the cargo flap shut and jammed it with a stray metal rod to keep it from falling again. Afterwards, they took their own defensive marks on either side of the entrance.

The LC meanwhile marched towards the middle car where a guard held the door for her. She stepped in and vanished from the rest of Gold Team.


	2. Show and Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, Mark again. Chapter 2 is out a little early cause I've had the wonderful combination of free time and inspiration. As always thanks for taking the time to read, hope it's good, and comments/criticisms are appreciated.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FOR BEASTAR MANGA READERS

The morning sun glared off Nomad's visor as he switched from his knee to a sitting position. Two hours had passed for the members of Gold Team since their leader had left and Six was bored beyond belief. Actually, he was getting rather irritable. He stared down the students of Cherryton Academy, though, the only thing the animals saw was his helmet. Most who passed by simply gave a glance to the crash site before moving on to talk with their friends. It still put the Spartan on edge.

An alarm went off for Ana, Damon, and Nomad. It was a timer Damon had set 18 hours ago, relative to the team. It was for their "smoother" injections. A cocktail of antipsychotics, smoothers were designed to combat the effects of their neural-altering non-carcinogenic mutagen labeled 009762-OO. The mutagen changed the frontal lobe of the brain, bringing out the more animalistic aspects of the human mind. It made the three Gamma Company Spartan-III's nigh unstoppable in hand to hand combat. The usual hesitation and processing of the average human was replaced by swift and violent action. There were of course side effects to this power. After a period of time without the smoothers, the sanity of said soldiers would begin to dwindle away as they became more and more unhinged.

Damon was the first to pry open his helmet, exposing some honey toned skin. Finding his injection in one of his storage compartments, he held the hypodermic needle to his neck and pressed down on the plunger. A cool sensation fell over him and he began to relax. The mutagen's effects felt different to Damon, instead of being outwardly aggressive like his comrades, he had always felt himself tense up. The smoothers left him feeling like a spring uncoiled.

An anxious Nomad sparked up the com channel. "Camera, my ten o'clock. See him Damon?"

Slipping his helmet back on, Damon peered at the source of commotion. It was an elephant with a bulky bridge camera. He seemed to be really fixated on his target, even changing stances to get different angles. It was obvious the large mammal was very dedicated to his work. Despite his intensity he wasn't threatening. Damon turned his head over to his fellow soldier who was now back into his kneeling position, currently twiddling his grip on his assault rifle.

"What do you think he wants?" Who the hell did this beast think he was? Nomad wanted to waste this animal on the spot. Maybe just a warning sh-

"Brother. Calm down. Take your smoother. That goes for you too Ana." Damon commanded. Being the resident medical expert for the team, a great deal of responsibility fell upon the young man. Young man, boy was that the understatement of the century. Him and Nomad were only thirteen, but that didn't stop either of them from looking like Olympic athletes. The growth hormones and augmentations made sure of that. He saw the female defender's green status light wink in acknowledgement of his order.

Ana's deathly pale skin showed for a brief moment as she took her own injection. She never felt the pricks when she took her medicine, she hardly felt anything on her skin when she went beyond 12 hours. It was funny, for being one of the most intelligent members of Gamma Company she preferred herself in her instinctive state. It was liberating and simple, unlike reality.

Nomad begrudgingly pulled out his own needle. He hated this medicine. It dulled his true power. The Spartan could probably rip that elephant's trunk right off his stupid face if he wanted to. Bah, whatever. He sunk the syringe into his neck and let the concoction flow into him. Another time.

A thought dawned upon Ana's mind. The team had come with only a week's supply of the anti-psychotics. "Damon. What happens when we run out of smoothers?"

* * *

2 hours earlier

* * *

The jet-black car column sped through the city. Tina faced toward the passenger headrest, only allowing herself to look out of the corner of her eye at the city. Yafya on the other hand couldn't help but scrutinize every inch of the Spartan. Her bodysuit really didn't leave much to the imagination. It fitted her firmly on all fronts. The soldier shot her head to the horse.

Rather than panic, the stallion smoothly shifted his eyes to the only armored section of her left. There was a hefty looking pistol that was seemingly stuck on, along with a few magazines. He platonically stuck out his hand. "May I?"

There was a slight delay as the Lieutenant Commander made up her mind on whether she was really going to allow some bipedal animal she had just met handle her only weapon. Then again, she could probably kill him and every other creature in this car before they could yelp. She unholstered her magnum with a neutral expression painted on her face. For just the briefest moment Yafya considered the probability of her shooting him dead where he sat. That thought was soon dismissed as Tina dropped the magazine and racked the slide, sending a round up in the air. Yafya snapped it out of the air to get a look at the ammunition. This also brought on a steely glare from his associate, but he had suddenly become far more preoccupied with the bullet in his hand.

He read off the inscription on the bottom of the shell. "12.7 by 40-millimeter S-A-P-H-E, 50 caliber." He looked up to Tina. "S-A-P-H-E?"

"Semi-Armor-Piercing, High-Explosive." She informed him with a cold breath. She definitely was not giving him the pistol now.

He handed the round back and she promptly retrieved it, chambering it before sliding the magazine back in.

"That's a very dangerous round." Yafya had to give credit, he'd heard of heavy hitting pistols before but nothing like what she was holding.

"Dangerous enemies make them a necessity." Her eyes were implying that she was sitting next to one of those enemies now. He appreciated this look. It made him feel like a threat to her again.

"Fair enough. Care to share what type of enemies these are?"

"Whenever we get to the police department, I will share whatever I can." Tina didn't care too much for the horse's prying. She was already breaching procedure by interacting with other self-aware life forms without a proper UNSC representative. As if it really mattered at this point. Following along with the Beastar seemed to be the only resolution to Gold Team's current situation. Of course, they could try shooting their way out, mix it up a little, but she felt like there might be some problems with that plan too.

The rest of the ride went by in relative silence. The herbivore driver pulled into the station's underground parking lot before both him and the front seat passenger exited. They opened and held the door for the Spartan and stallion. The group proceeded to the elevator where the guards finally broke off, leaving the two leaders alone. Yafya pressed the button that flashed the number 57.

After a short journey up, steel sheeted doors slid back to reveal pillars and statues that lined the way to a relatively empty room. In it was a small (for the Spartan) circular table illuminated by candlelight. A civilian would've thought it romantic. 306 thought it was pretentious. A bottle of wine, a bottle of water, two glasses, and two plates of carrots were spread out on the surface. Yafya gestured for her to sit down and she did so. The environment she now found herself in was unlike any she'd ever experienced before. Sure, she had heard of higher-ranking officers being granted certain luxuries, but she had never before been room with such suffocating opulence.

"Wine?" The horse asked.

"Water." She answered flatly.

Once the drinks were poured, he sat down. "So, about those enemies…"

 _Of course, he'd want to pick that up again. Fuck it._ Tina reached for a glass and found her hand wrapped around his wine. She chugged it in a rather brutish manner before placing it back. "The Covenant. A highly advanced multi-species alliance of religious extremists whose goal is the complete and total extinction of all human life. For 27 years they have decimated human worlds, tearing through our defenses, targeting vulnerable assets, and bombarding the planets from orbit. The process is known as glassing due to the super-heated plasma that changes the very geology of the surface." Tina put her index, middle, and ring finger on the table, creating a small black wall that started moving across the cloth. "They do it in crossing strokes to make sure that they don't miss anything. It kills everything it touches, effectively rendering the planet uninhabitable and erasing the traces of any other species." The Lieutenant Commander paused.

"As it stands, they've glassed more than seventy planets. We've lost more than twenty billion people. We're outmanned, outgunned, and outmatched. Pushed back to our species' homeworld." She motioned to the window.

Tina stared out of the glass. It was the first time she had really stopped to consider the fact that this was her first time on Earth. The moment quickly faded, and she turned back to her host with a smirk.

"But we keep fighting. We keep fighting because we're too damn stubborn to die. We keep fighting because when faced with absolute annihilation any alternatives are preferable. We keep fighting because it is human nature to do so. I fight because it is a Spartan's honor to do so." The soldier leaned back in her seat and poured another glass of wine. She hoped she had made herself clear.

Yafya brow was furrowed as he processed the whole monologue. No, it wasn't a monologue, it was a eulogy. He realized now that she wasn't just recounting her kind's unfortunate events, she was praising the persistence they had to survive this far. This would be her last testimony to mankind's determination, because to her they might as well have already been gone. If what the Lieutenant Commander said about her anomaly was true, whether humanity won or lost the conflict she described, she would never get to see it. The horse took a swig of her glass of water.

The room was silent until Tina's plate clinked as she poked her fork through one of the carrots, popping the disk into her mouth. She nodded in approval. "These are pretty good. Must have some decent fertilizer."

Yafya coughed as he choked. Tina snickered at the sight. "Careful. I didn't know they put bones in the water here."

The stallion wiped his mouth with a white towel. "Thank you… you have my condolences."

"Don't mention it, and I suppose that isn't my problem anymore. What is my problem is my team, and it is something that I need your help with."

She went on to divulge the Gamma Spartan dilemma and how they were different from her and James. They would need a steady stream of medicine in order to keep the three in check along with someplace to station themselves for the time being. If not, the rogue elements may be too much for even Tina to control.

An understanding look appeared on Yafya's face. "Of course. I can supply whatever is needed. I can't risk endangering the public if it can be stopped, but I'm going to need something in return."

Of course, they would need to put something on the table. "What were you planning on?"

"As you probably already know, the act of undertaking the role of Beastar is a serious one. While I'd like to believe I could do this forever, the simple fact is that I'm getting older and the competition is getting younger. I have failed trying to perfect this city in this life. Perhaps one of your Spartans can succeed where I have not." Yafya stood before tightening his tie. "So show me…" He violently flipped the table at the Lieutenant Commander. "THIS UNDYING POWER OF HUMANITY!"

Tina sat still until the surface crested and obscured their view of each other. The shadow dashed around the side and Yafya could feel himself being lifted up by his throat. Before the table could even reach her chair, Tina had already smashed the horse against the glass wall. A spider webbing fracture deepened and spread behind the Beastar's back. She was faster and stronger than he could have ever predicted. She was perfect. The wine and crystal glasses shattered as they hit the floor.

It was a test and she knew it. She had put it all out on display and he wasn't scared. There was even hope in his eyes. She released her titanium grip and his black dress shoes treaded on his precious carrots. Her foot came down on a skull, crushing it, as she turned back toward the center of the room.

Yafya decided to just rip his tie off and throw it away. "How old are they? Your three Spartans?"

"The brothers are thirteen, and the smallest one is twelve." She seemed indifferent to how young they were. She seemed indifferent towards him for now. Rays of the sun refracted through the web of glass. It was morning.

The stallion cupped his chin in thought. "I think they'd be better received if they were say, fifteen? Puts them in their first year of high school."

"Highschool?" Of all the things that had happened in the past two hours, this might be the most ridiculous. Tina knew there had to be an ulterior motive besides broadening the minds of her team.

"Yes. If your soldiers are to become heroes in the eyes of the city, they better get used to its people. No offense, but deadly killing machines don't tend to draw confidence from the people. They need something familiar."

There it was. The experience would only be a means to end. Someway for the lesser creatures to warm up to the goliaths.

"With their medication they're just like you, correct? There shouldn't be a problem then." A very straightforward way of looking at it.

Tina didn't like this, and she knew the three wouldn't like it either. They were warriors, not civilians. They'd given that life up half a decade ago when they chose to be Spartans. The horse on the other hand, wasn't really giving them a choice. "They will adapt. They always do."

"Good. I'm going to go change. We have a press conference in..." Yafya checked his phone. "Fifteen minutes."

Wait, _what?_ Tina double checked her eyepiece translation. She really hoped Ana's language learning algorithm was off. Unfortunately, Ana didn't make mistakes. _A press conference?_ The Spartan would rather get into a knife fight with a Brute than stand in front of a crowd of civilians.

Even though it was slight, Yafya noticed her change in posture. "Don't tell me Spartans get stage fright. Though, I can't imagine your UNSC utilized you for public speaking very often. Worry not, I've got enough experience in this subject for the both of us. I'll set you up and you drive it home. All you have to do is make a good impression." He continued on his way to a connecting room.

A good impression. Right.

* * *

Damon wasn't sure how to answer Ana's question. He had been mentally avoiding that possibility. At the end of the day it was a sad truth that they wouldn't be able to control themselves without those smoothers. He decided to place his faith in his leader.

"I'm sure the LT will figure something out. Probably talking it over right now with that horse guy. Let's just focus on deterring the curious."

"Alright." At the rear of the Pelican, Ana watched students traverse the groove that divided the sections of track. Most of the herbivores slid down and ran up the side, while the carnivores typically gained as much speed as they could before jumping the gap. It was rather impressive. The crevice was at least 15 feet across, and many took the distance in stride. The analyst tapped on her data pad looking for athletic competitions when a notification popped up.

_City's Sublime Beastar To Host Press Conference Introducing New Space Species_

Ana found a channel that would be broadcasting the event and brought it up on the rest of Gold Team's HUDs. "Guess you were right about her talking it over 5."

Nomad cracked a smile in his helmet. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Damon stayed silent as he watched a female Doberman Pinscher and her cameraman try to fight their way into the meeting room. The area was about 2000 square feet, minus the stage and podium, and was still standing room only. Any news source worth its salt for a hundred miles around sent a team to the conference. This would be the biggest story since Yafya's appointment to the rank of Sublime Beastar, and there he walked on stage.

Hundreds of flashes went off in a blinding tsunami of light. It only intensified as Tina followed and took a staggered position behind the horse at the podium. "Good morning people of Cherryton and beyond. I am Yafya, the Sublime Beastar of this city. As you may already know, there was a crash landing in the fields of Cherryton Academy before daylight today. Onboard were seven members of the new species known as humanity. There were two injuries to the aircraft's pilots, but there were no other damages besides that of property. The two are currently enrolled at our local hospital and are in stable conditions. Here to represent her species, Lieutenant Commander of the United Nations Space Command, Tina."

Another wave of flashes hit the stage as 306 took the podium. Yafya stood by with a smile. Her face was neutral and hard. "Good morning. I am Lieutenant Commander Tina-B306 of the UNSC. Minus two hours this morning my team was transferring to Nassau Space Station when an accident created an event known as a slipspace anomaly. To put it in simple terms, slipspace allows the manipulation of space and time for faster-than-light-travel. This anomaly encompassed our station along my team's transport ship. While I am a part of the UNSC military, we are by no means here with violent intentions, it is simply random coincidence. We currently do not have the technological capabilities to return to our real-space. We appreciate your understanding and hospitality during this time."

The stallion leaned over to the microphone. "Any questions?"

The crowd erupted in a cluster of queries. _Any questions?_ Of course there were going to be questions. He definitely set her up alright. Tina wanted to punch this fucker in the throat right on stage, but that wouldn't reflect well on the rest of her team. Instead she gritted her teeth and pointed to a crow with a funny looking hat.

The crowd finally went silent and the black feathered avian stood. "Are humans carnivores or herbivores?"

"Humans are omnivores, but we have been eating synthetically produced food for the past five centuries." The sound of scribbling notepads were quickly drowned out by animals vying for the next question.

She picked a cobra whose tail wrapped around a camera that jutted above the crowd. Its tip had been wiggling with such fury that she couldn't help but notice. "Do all humansss look like you?"

"No they don't. My stature, and that of my team, are the exception not the rule. We are classified as Spartans. Advanced soldiers that defend the UNSC. The two pilots are a more accurate portrayal of the average human." Waving hands furred, feathered, and scaled filled her view again.

Tina selected a gray coated coyote that was wearing a grey coat. "Will you be helping the Beastar suppress the rise in organized crime?"

This made the commander turn to the older horse. "If he will allow me to assist, I would be proud to."

This forced Yafya to the mic again. "However, three of these Spartans are under the age of 17. I cannot in good conscience put these minors at risk and instead have made a request to Principal Gon for them to be enrolled at Cherryton Academy for the time being. There they can learn about our way of life and how to be a part of our community. No further questions."

The Beastar led the way off stage much to the dismay of the ever-unsatisfied news teams. Tina followed in suit. The broadcast cut back to the Doberman who began rattling off a recap for those who were just now switching to the channel. Ana stopped casting to the team's screens.

Nomad began laughing over the comms. "Oh man, that was a good one. The LT is such a joker, getting that horse to believe we're going to school. Like that is ever going to happen."

Damon piped up next. "I don't think she was joking."

A new message appeared for the team. It was a supercut of the Lieutenant Commander's discussions with the Sublime Beastar. She had pretty much told everything that needed to be said.

Nomad made no comments. Where he would usually make a snide remark on the mic there was only soundless air. While in no way he agreed with the decision she had made, Tina was still his superior and he would respect any order she gave.

From then on there was only static on the Spartan's channel. Each one had their own ideas on the deal that had been struck, but none voiced their opinions.

Tina arrived later with two cargo helicopters. "We're moving the Pelican off the premises. Sensitive cargo first. Ana, I'm armoring." James ripped the bulkhead down before they stepped inside. 127 acknowledged her order and began reattaching her leader's titanium plating.

James and Damon were sent with the sensitive cargo to the Police Department. Yafya was there waiting for them. He escorted the two soldiers to a large sublevel of the building. It looked like two soccer fields placed side by side with the elevator separating them. The ten-foot clearance meant no jumping for James, least he ram his head into the ceiling. Besides a few wooden pallets and empty cardboard boxes, there wasn't much to look at.

The horse took stock of the below ground storage room. "Apologies for the subpar accommodations. This is the best I could do on such short notice."

"We'll make do." Damon reassured his host.

There were three crates and six cases that took two more trips to unload. The medic lifted one case open, he supposed it didn't matter if the stallion saw anymore. Inside was a mighty looking weapon that looked like it could crush smaller animals by accidently dropping it on them.

"What is that?" Yafya asked with some wonderlust in his eye.

"A real beauty, isn't she? That is a M6V, Spartan Laser, or Splaser as Nomad calls it, he's my brother. Sadly, she's taken. They assigned her to Ana. Not like I'd want it in a city like this anyway. Not much use for a death laser in friendly urban environments." He casually pointed out.

Once they were finished, James stayed to guard the room under the guise of sorting. Damon went back to assist with the relocation effort. The rest of the day was just a blur of breaking down the ship, loading its contents, and unloading them into a private hangar at the local airport. It was just before dusk when Gold Team finally finished the job. The heavy hangar doors slammed and locked close.

The crew boarded the cargo chopper for the last time. Through circular windows one could see where the horizon separated the land from the burnt orange sky. Nomad wasn't a sentimental guy, but he could appreciate a good view when he saw one.

"So, LT, when do classes start?"


	3. Light on a Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark here. Thinking about changing my schedule to Tuesdays and Fridays from now on so we'll see how long that lasts. As always, thanks for stopping by and taking a look. It really means a lot to me. Leave comments and criticisms freely, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FOR BEASTARS MANGA READERS, AND THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS KILLING

Captain Akihiro Murakami never needed to join the UNSC Navy. He never even needed to leave Earth. He was born into one of the most wealthy and influential families in New Mombasa. His father was a bigshot lawyer that had secured billions of credits for Misriah Armories by suing companies that had tried to produce knockoff weaponry, and his mother was a high ranking officer in the Security Council. All Akihiro needed to do was go to law school and join his father's group of attorneys. But that didn't happen.

The Captain awoke to a sterile white ceiling. Good, a hospital. He slowly sat up when his head started pounding. It felt like someone had slapped him with a nine pound hammer. His mouth was dry and sticky. Akihiro saw a small plastic cup of water which he took into his hand. It was strange, the medical instruments seemed rather out of date. The EKG was boxy, as if the monitor needed excess wiring for the display. They were usually flat or holograms. The more he looked around, the more Akihiro realized something was wrong.

The room's door opened and a moose in a nurse's outfit walked in. She waved to him with a smile and tentatively approached. The man scrambled back in his bed, slamming his back into the wall. He flattened himself into the structure, trying to keep space between him and the bipedal beast. The moose took the hint and took a step back.

Slipping in from behind the animal, his friend and mentor, Major Kasha Jones appeared. Looking at a small UNSC data pad, she uttered some phrases the Captain didn't understand. The moose nodded and left the room to the two humans.

"Morning Murakami." She gave a passing salute and a smirk.

"Morning Major." Akihiro returned the gesture with a less than confident look on his face.

"I'm sure you've got more than a few questions Captain, but I'll go ahead and clear up a few. We're on Earth, we're safe, and we're no longer on mission. We were involved in a slipspace anomaly around Nassau station." She took a moment to gather the next statement. "This is not the same Earth."

Silent confusion followed. Akihiro slipped out of bed and trudged to a nearby window that was veiled by a white curtain. Pulling it back he saw the majority of the city. It was then that he realized Kasha was telling the truth. Earth cities were never this small. They usually expanded to the horizon, especially when they sat next to a body of water. The skyscrapers would all be at least 150 stories tall with interlocking transit systems. What was before him was a small town in comparison.

A speeding Red-Tailed Hawk zipped past the window and the Captain stepped back. "So they're all…"

The Major responded by putting the data pad into her subordinate's hand. "The Lieutenant Commander made this debrief yesterday. Should help you get up to speed."

That's right. He was transporting a team of Spartans when he went unconscious. That made him feel a lot more at ease. It was like having a full Scorpion Plato-, no, a Scorpion Division supporting you. The presence of one of those war machines could turn the tide of any…

He had been passively reading the summary when something caught his eye. Taking a second glance he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The flabbergasted pilot shot an astonished look at his superior. "They're going to school!? Where we crashed!?"

Jones just smiled and turned toward the entrance. "Your uniform is on the chair in the corner. Come find me in the lobby when you're ready to go."

Akihiro continued reading. Kasha had almost made it out of the room before he barked out another exclamation. "I've been out for a week!?"

* * *

After acclimatizing themselves to the new world, the Gamma Spartans of Gold team had to be fitted for their new uniforms. Before that they needed proper undergarments. Once in a suit of powered armor, Spartans typically didn't remove them until their assigned mission was done. Even their undersuits could be worn for months at a time with no drawbacks. Needless to say, they didn't pack extra pairs of underwear before they left on their excursions. It was hard to convert Large Carnivore sizes to human sizes. Just when they thought they'd found something, it was revealed that there was hole cut for a tail.

Despite its embarrassing nature for most people, the Spartans thought nothing of being exposed to each other. The training barracks at Onyx only had open communal showers. There they often checked each other for injuries they would tend to after bathing. They slept and maintained their quarters in only their skivvies. There was no room for feeling awkward around each other.

After finally taking care of the necessities the trio moved onto civilian clothes. Something they weren't exactly acquainted with. They stared at the racks of clothes around them in the store. The large carnivores that had happened to be there took occasional peeks at the Spartans. Damon and Nomad looked identical and took quite a bit of concentration to tell who was talking. The medic made the first move, choosing some blue jeans and a red flannel shirt.

"Going for the Paul Bunyun look are we?" Nomad smirked and Ana suppressed a laugh.

Damon shot his companions a steely gaze. "Oh piss off. None of us have ever shopped before. I want to see what kind of clothes you two get."

Nomad shrugged. "Alright." And left to find some.

Ana meandered over to the female section where she found a warm gold skirt. It would match her similarly shaded blonde hair fairly well. The only problem was her brown eyes. They were ugly and contrasted terribly with her skin and anything light she tried to wear. She at one point had beautiful baby blue eyes that seemed to twinkle when light was present. After augmentation, they had mutated into the dirty orbs currently in her head. She decided this would be for special occasions when she could wear sunglasses. Besides, it was October, and she needed something more practical.

She came back to Damon with a black top, black jacket, and black jeans. Nomad proudly returned a moment later with a black polyester shirt and black athletic shorts.

"Wow you guys are depressing." He said looking over his dark crew.

His brother rolled his eyes. "Sorry Great Keeper of the Blue Ox, but black is always in. Right Ana?"

"Sure." She said while tapping on her small tacpad. The analyst had refitted it to her bare arm a couple days ago. Old habits die hard.

Damon slowly nodded. "Uh huh. Well, guess we should get a move on."

The three loaded into one of Yafya's black cars. It would be a few minutes before the buildings parted for the school on the hill. The Academy had an air of spiritual dominance over its surroundings. The brothers recalled their father talking about a city on a hill once, but neither of them could remember exactly what he'd said. They couldn't have been more than six at the time.

The car slowed and the passengers exited. The Spartans could already feel the copious amount of eyes staring from the windows. They grabbed their bags from the trunk of the car. The twins headed towards the male's carnivore building and Ana went to the female's. Despite the knowledge of humans being omnivores, the school thought it better to place the young warriors in the carnivore's dormitories. Damon and Nomad were greeted by an older female Baboon.

"Good afternoon gentlemen. I will show you to your rooms." She seemed to have no reservations in addressing the hulking aliens. Perhaps it was because she had to keep such a wide variety of animals in check. Perhaps she just didn't really care. Regardless, it was rather refreshing to the two.

They followed her up a few floors before heading a quarter way down a hallway. They passed a small kitchenette with a table along the way. "Since you are both scholarship students, you will each have your own spaces. Damon is room 404 and Nomad is 405. Here are the keys." She extended the 404 key to Nomad and the 405 key to Damon. "My apologies if I give you the wrong one. You both look so alike. If you have problems in the future, please let me know who you are beforehand to avoid confusion."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you." Damon took the key opposite of him with a slight smile.

Nomad took his key with a neutral face and a nod.

The primate took a little pride in the thanksgiving and stood a little taller. "You're welcome. Breakfast is from 6 to 8, your lunchtimes should have already been assigned, and dinner is from 5 to 8. You can also buy meals and ingredients from our on campus shop. There are small kitchens for you to cook in as you saw. Laundry room is at the opposite end of the halls, and if you damage your uniforms you can pay to have them repaired at the shop as well. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Yes ma'am. We will." Damon responded.

Satisfied with a job well done, the Baboon left the two Spartans. The medic waited until she disappeared down the stairs to turn to his brother. "You're kind of a dick, you know that?"

"What? She was just doing her job." Nomad deflected.

"You could have at least said 'thanks'. We're supposed to be forming a positive image."

"Ha! That's cute. You keep trying to make that 'positive image' and I'll make sure they don't take a bite out of your ass while your back is turned."

Damon shook his head, but dropped the argument. "Whatever. Drop your stuff off and get situated. We're meeting Ana for chow at 1800."

Nomad popped a sarcastic salute. "Yes sir Captain Bunyun!"

Damon dismissed the comment and unlocked the door to his room.

Ana crossed the threshold into her new domain and was greeted by an annoying sunset. She immediately closed the blinds but found there was still a crack. That was going to need to be fixed eventually. Throwing her duffle bag on her bed, she unzipped it and began unpacking. New uniforms were sorted, hygiene products were put in place, and her M6S was stashed between her bed and the cubby wall. It was in a vacuum sealed baggie to avoid any suspicious smells from escaping. She doubted she would even need it, but better to have it just in case. An advanced version of the M6C Personal Defence Weapon System, the M6C/SOCOM is optimized for Special Operations with an integrated sound suppressor and muzzle brake. It would be perfect for quietly dealing with serious problems should the need arise.

The pale girl exited her room, locking it behind her. As she made her way to the main stairwell she passed a group of felines, two lynx and a panther. They were having a conversation about a guy in class that came to an abrupt stop with the passing by of the Spartan. Ana forced a smile and continued on her way. The group's talk continued on in hushed voices.

Ana brought her tray to her companions' table, sitting across from the brothers who always ate side by side. Even with it being the height of the dinner rush, the soldier's section had a one table buffer in all directions from the next occupied seat. Many herbivores even altered their course of walking to avoid getting remotely close to the three. Some braver carnivores kept their headings, but kept an eye on the foreigners.

The Spartans chose to focus on their food. They had all laid out their utensils, napkins, and drinks in the same formation. Their postures were straight and powerful. They closed their eyes simultaneously and took a moment of silence before they began eating. No spills, no breach of etiquette, no mistakes. They always finished and swallowed their mouthfuls before moving onto the next bite or sip.

"What the hell are they? Robots?" An off comment sounded from a nearby onlooker. The brothers couldn't see where the voice came from, but Ana could in her peripheral sight.

The analyst put the tongs of her fork on the table. She began tapping. The twins automatically recognized it as Morse Code. The beats were light and fast, too fast for a regular person to decrypt.

_F-E-N-N-E-C_

"You might want to quiet down; they might be listening. They're supposed to be pretty dangerous." One theorized.

_H-Y-E-N-A_

A lighter whisper added to the suspicion. "Yeah, and they can turn invisible too."

_C-O-Y-O-T-E_

The little fox spoke again. "What? That's crazy. They aren't chameleons. Not that it matters to Miguno. Can't see two feet in front of you anyway." The hyena got a peeved look on his face.

_M-EQUALS-H (Miguno is the hyena)_

Miguno fired back. "Yeah and maybe one day I might not double check where I'm walking and crush you, you antennae eared chew toy."

Interjecting, a higher squeaky voice tried to calm the situation. "Come on now, you don't mean that. Voss is just trying to get a rise out of you. You know he likes to do that."

_L-A-B_ _**STOP** _

_V-EQUALS-F (Voss is the Fennec)_

A deeper, warmer voice rumbled from the table. "Hey guys, did they stop eating?"

He'd caught them, whoever he was. The male was very perceptive. The three had been staring idly at their plates during the other table's conversation. They'd been too focused on Ana's messages and ratted themselves out. She sent out one last sequence.

_W-O-L-F_

Ana then twirled her fork elegantly before sticking it into some mashed potatoes. The whole team took their next bite in unison. She had a small half smile on her face as she chewed.

Miguno slapped the table and pointed at Voss. "I told you they were listening!"

Voss shrugged. "So what? It's not like I'm the only one thinking they're weirdos."

At this point, the cafeteria was filled with the low hum of the whispers and malicious accusations.

"Is it weird to enjoy a meal in silence?" Damon blurted. Nomad was bemused. It was one of the rare occasions that his brother couldn't hold his tongue longer than he could. Of course, he would have said something far more threatening. Still, his outburst effectively killed the conversations of the room.

Voss was vexed by the response. As for the rest of his table, they were rather worried. "Yeah, it is. Why don't you guys talk more? Or eat normally?"

"This is how we eat normally; we were taught this way. You also might eat more efficiently if you didn't talk." What was common knowledge to the Spartans seemed to be a perplexing matter for the canids.

Voss wasn't sure how to respond to this and decided to be defensive. "Whatever, just don't mess with us."

Damon stood up with his plate. They had overstayed their welcome and it was time for the trio to leave. "We weren't the ones talking about you." The group threw their plates away and made for the exit, the eyes of the cafeteira tracking them the whole way.

Stepping down the stairs of the main school building, the medic led the way to the dormitories. There were empty backhoes that were staggered across the Academy's two fields. They had fixed the pathways and the track over the past week and were now just filling in the miscellaneous sections of the crash's consequence. He stopped before Ana broke off for her building. "Alarms set for 0500, workout till 6, grab a shower, eat, and be at classes by 8."

"Affirmative." Ana nodded. The twins waited for their analyst to vanish into her dorms before they did the same.

The brothers never said a word until they reached their rooms. It was Nomad's turn to talk. "Be there on time. I don't like running alone." There it was. Between the lines of his sibling's face and the air of his words, a genuine statement. They were rare and they were something Damon cherished. They made every sneering, distasteful comment and abrasive action worth it. The words were like gold to him, because he knew why it was hard for him to say.

Damon didn't ruin the moment with a smile. He simply reinforced his brother's confidence in him. "You know I'm always on time." They separated and went into their own rooms. Upon crossing their doorways, all three Spartans would find letters addressed to them from the Drama Club.

* * *

Amanda was always on time. She had been preparing the perfect shot since midday. Laying prone, the muzzle of her rifle was parallel with the end of the rooftop. Her scope was zeroed on an alleyway intersection four hundred meters away. The scaly Dokugumi soldiers were reeling in her target now. They were relying on her to finish the fight. There would be no way for them to win. They were merely pawns to be sacrificed in order to eliminate a far more valuable piece.

It would be a truly historic shot. One that would be heard throughout the city. One that would bring about a new era of prosperity for the gangs of the Black Market. Only two days ago, the lizards had extended an olive branch to the Inarigumi. One of their warehouses had been raided. It had been one of their main counterfeit Yen storages. Nobody was too surprised to find out who the culprit was, but they had been expecting it. The Dokugumi had spent the last two weeks leaking the warehouse's location around the Black Market.

After the target had destroyed the fake money, he found information about a counterfeit production facility. The information had been planted before the raid had begun. It was a trap. That is where Amanda came in. She was an Inarigumi assassin who had a long rap sheet and a longer kill list. Beside her kneeling was Nali, her spotter. The two foxes had been getting into trouble together since they could walk. Now it was no different.

"Here he comes." Nali said this as a dark shadow's foot dislocated the jaw of a komodo.

The Black Devil himself, Yafya, walked into Amanda's crosshairs. "Easy kill." She let out half her breath and slowly fingered the trigger.

A grinding crunch came from her partner and her binoculars fumbled to the rooftop. She snapped to Nali and couldn't understand what she was looking at. Her body was positioned forward, but her head was facing behind her like she was an owl. The fox collapsed on top of Amanda's rifle, her spine was completely severed and it protruded from under her neck's fur covered flesh. Nali's once green eyes were rolled into the back of her head. It was then that the sniper realized that her childhood friend was dead. She flipped to her back to find the perpetrator only to be greeted by an armored hand that wrapped around her throat. Amanda tried to scream, but her trachea had already been crushed in the titanium vice. The rest of her killer finally phased into reality. An unfeeling reflective surface projected her fear filled face right back at her.

Once the life was gone from the fox's eyes, Tina unslung the backpack she was wearing and pulled out two body bags from the primary opening. Yafya wanted them for his garden and the Lieutenant Commander was more than happy to oblige. Those carrots were ridiculously good after all. After zipping up the bags, Tina hopped off the rooftop with one in each hand. She had the assassin's rifle on her back. It might be worth taking a look at later.

The Spartan got in contact with her ally. "The pests have been dealt with. I'll be waiting."

Tina walked in the darkness before reaching the rear of a pitch-black SUV. She slid the bodies in back before climbing in herself. The suspension rocked for a moment before settling. She closed the flap and began checking out her new weapon. It was a custom made bolt-action rifle that reminded her of the ones she'd seen used by the hunters of long ago. She slid the bolt back and caught the round that was ejected. It was a belted, bottlenecked cartridge with an 8mm bullet diameter. This piece was meant for stopping power.

The driver door opened up and a sweaty Yafya entered.

"About time old man. Oh, and you're welcome." Tina chucked the round forward and the Beastar caught it, inspecting it for himself. "Your fox friends really wanted you dead."

"They're not the only ones." The horse exhaled. "I have to ask, how did you know where they'd set up?"

The LC gave a laugh. "Because that's where I would have taken the shot." Yafya tossed the bullet back and his associate caught it. "Good snipers think alike. Better snipers know that." Tina laid back on the SUV's bed. It had been pretty much stripped so that the hefty super soldiers could stretch out even with their full armor, and so that the vehicle could still "blend in." Though, a perceptive person could tell the suspension was bearing a good deal of weight.

Yafya started the SUV and pulled out. "So what if 'better snipers' come along?"

"Well, seeing as how I'm with you, there are no 'better snipers.'" It wasn't overconfidence or arrogance, it was simple fact. There were no opposing Spartans, therefore, there were no better snipers, soldiers, or killers.

"You're with me huh?" The stallion had heard that one before. Granted, that lizard had nothing on the warrior he was currently transporting. She was built to be a precision war machine and he had the luxury of having her at his back. _Hear that Gosha? I found somebody else to fill those last ten degrees._

"I'm getting just a little tired of you questioning me. If I wasn't with you, I'd kill you and find someone who could help me. So, yes, I am with you. Now unless you have any other tasks to deal with, I think we should head back. You're looking a bit tired." Tina wanted to get into the fight after the assassins had been dealt with, but he'd insisted on dealing with the Dokugumi thugs himself beforehand. "You will let me go all out next fight or you can find someone else to help you haul your fertilizer."

"Very well then. Next time." Yafya hid a smile as they swept through the streets towards the Police Station.


	4. FNGs Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark here, back at it again. Big props to my homeboi Shadow for being a prodigious Assistant to the Regional Editor. Wouldn't be the same without him. Comments/criticisms always welcome, hope you all enjoy.

James was hard at work in the underground. He hadn’t left the subterranean room in a few days. The basement of the Police Station had changed dramatically over that time. One of the long sides had been converted into an improvised range with the shooter’s side having a bench and a few chairs. Just beside that, a small armory had been set up. Sealed away behind steel grates were all of the weapons currently at the Spartan’s disposal, including Tina’s new rifle. They were mostly all small arms, and a few explosives, nothing crazy. 

Tina had come and gone during the nights when she helped Yafya. The soldiers had a “barracks” that consisted of a few mattresses on the concrete with some footlockers at their bases. Aside from the sets of SPI armor, the Gamma troop section was now deserted, so James had taken the liberty of doubling up their beds. It didn’t really matter though, the heavy had only slept about ten hours over the past week from what his health monitor had read, and that was with him still doing his regular exercises. Tina had noticed, but hadn’t expressed her concerns. 

_ Perhaps that was just the type of soldier he was. _

When the existence of the Spartans had first become known to the UNSC public, most couldn’t tell a difference between the generations and the companies that made them up. The Spartan 2’s had been the first real successful rendition of the super soldier program. This led most citizens to believe they were all S-II’s, though the S-III’s were both younger and volunteers. What was even lesser known was the existence of the Second Class of S-II’s, which had been trained and augmented almost simultaneously as Tina’s Bravo Company. The Second Class were almost exclusively under direct command of the Office of Naval Intelligence(ONI). ONI was the shadow section of the UNSC, a division devoted to secrecy. The only reason she knew about them to begin with was because she too fell under ONI jurisdiction after Operation: TORPEDO, but even she had a relatively low clearance level.

The Class II’s batch was antisocial and hostile, even for Spartan standards. There weren’t many loose lips in intelligence, but what the Lieutenant Commander had deciphered was that the Second Class had been ill-fated from the beginning. Class I’s had been the passion project of Doctor Catherine Halsey, and she had treated them as if they were her own kids. However, Dr. Halsey had moved on to researching at Reach’s SWORD Base by the time the Class II’s came around. Being kidnapped, coupled with the severe beatings and training, led to the next class being far more vicious, stealthy, and cunning. 

Almost half of the class that made it to augmentations died during the procedure, but there were multiple discrepancies that insinuated the existence of fireteams composed of the KIA. It was funny how ONI worked. They just kept stacking lies until the tower toppled and the truth spilled out.

Tina watched as James detail stripped his SAW and wondered if he trusted her. They were both Spartans sure, but she had volunteered for this. She wanted to be the combatant she is today. She had a fondness for the raw power she possessed. But what about James? What did he think of himself? What did he think of her? He had only communicated via HUD lights and hand signals thus far. She hadn’t even seen him remove his helmet yet. Surely he had eaten while he was down here. There was a growing pile of discarded MREs and ration bars in a waste receptacle.

Tina circled over him. “Morning James. Thanks for playing house. The Beastar’s mechanics are still working on a better transport for us. Should be done within the month. Until then, you should go to the upper floors, get some sunlight.”

James heavily turned his helmet toward her. She thought she might have pissed him off for a moment, but he gave her a thumbs up before continuing his maintenance. The LC was satisfied for now and steered herself towards the armory.

_ Perhaps he was injured.  _

She had heard of certain throat injuries that could damage the larynx and make one mute. She wished she had the opportunity to go back before the Nassau Station incident and request his file. There wasn’t much warning prior to her being assigned as Gold Team’s leader. Tina had simply assumed the team would comprise only Gamma Company greenhorns fresh from augment recovery. Not veterans in full Mjolnir.

The first time she met James was when he abruptly boarded Kilo-550 for transport. He had caught her off guard and she was about to tell him he was coming aboard the wrong ship when she got an updated team roster. She was then informed by the Major that the last Spartan element was aboard the station itself. Another Class II, Nicole-458.

The LC still wondered what happened to them as she picked up her new rifle for an examination.  _ An entire station just... gone.  _ The entire force defending Earth probably went into high alert right after they vanished. Hell, the might have just been the first ones hit in some sort of Covenant surprise attack. 

Tina tried to stop thinking about it as she removed the bolt from the weapon’s stock. As she said before, it's not her problem anymore.

-

On the newly restored track the trio of Spartans were finishing up their 15 mile run. It took about 30 minutes if they weren’t pushing, but in the last three miles they had progressively picked up speed. Ana had been left behind by the time the twins had switched to a dead sprint on the last mile. It was always like this between brothers; neither could afford to be the lesser half. During training they hardly needed any motivation from the drill instructors to get going. They pushed each other far harder than any superior could.

Their competition had attracted the gaze of several early risers who were stunned by their fierce pace. As the twins turned their final corner, they matched each other step for step until Damon slowly inched forward. Just as the medic thought he could win, Nomad threw a shove to his shoulder mid stride. It threw him off balance, forcing him to slam into the turf. He quickly recovered and started after his brother who was now facing him in his usual fighting stance.

Damon’s mind had switched to what move he’d open this brawl up with. That was, until his alarm went off.  _ Smoothers Damon, you just need your smoothers.  _ It was then he noticed his brother had turned his back on him to face a more impending threat, Ana.

The smallest Spartan had turned back on her last lap after hearing the commotion and had already closed the gap on Nomad. She stunned him with an open palm strike to his diaphragm, causing all of the air in his lungs to evacuate. Ana followed it up by scaling the instigator, wrapping a leg around his shoulder, and securing the leg around his face. She then curled her mass into his chest and forced him to fall forward. It was a perfect flying armbar. She was now in full control and could break her fellow soldier’s arm if she felt like it.

Damon was so wrapped up watching the move he almost failed to notice Ana retrieve something shiny from his brother’s neck. It was a smoother shot. A very smart move on her part, putting herself in a dominant position while also making sure he couldn’t retaliate. Her leg had also shielded the shot from being exposed to the campus.

With a now clear head, Nomad tapped his comrades leg so he could get a fresh breath of air. Ana released and rolled back, doing a handstand to get to her feet. Damon walked over and offered a helping hand to his brother who accepted it. There had never been a conflict between the twins that they couldn’t bounce back from.

Ana however, was still pissed. “You two are morons. You should have taken your smoothers before you got here. We’re in the civilian world now, we have to blend in.”

“I should have been on top of that.” Damon took the blame.

“Yeah, well now we have to cover it up. Damon, go back and get your shot. Nomad, you’re with me. If administration questions what happened, we can act like we were practicing. Come on.” Ana moved to softer earth in the field where she and Nomad proceeded to work takedowns and locks.

Damon made the trek back to his dorm with a legion of eyes following his every step.  _ Didn’t these animals have anything else better to do than watch them?  _ Actually, probably not. The Spartans were probably quite entertaining.

-

The medic exited his shower and dried himself off in a towel. He walked out of his bathroom and examined his school uniform. The striped grey pants were crisp and new along with his blue vest and white undershirt. After he’d finished dressing, he adjusted his tie in the mirror to just the right length before doing a final check.  _ Acceptable.  _ Damon tugged his collar down a couple inches, took his smoother, and finally left his room with backpack in tow. He was just in time to see his grass stained brother come marching up the stairs.

“Had fun?” Damon asked with a smirk as he passed.

“Loads, heaps, piles.” Nomad huffed. “I’ll be about 10 mike.”

“Roger that.”

Damon took his time heading towards the main building. It was hard to simply scan around without having somebody already looking right back at him. He decided that a passive smile would be the best way to navigate these rocky waters. 

Once the medic finally crossed the entrance of the cafeteria he found that the table from last night might not be the best place to sit again. As he sought a new territory, he saw somebody approaching. Damon turned to the stranger. It was a Sheepdog with fringes that covered his eyes completely. He wondered how the beast could even see where he was going with that much hair in his face.

“Hey, uh, good morning.” The dog said scratching the back of his head. His tail was down and barely moving. It was obvious his nerves were on edge around the foreigner.

“Good morning.” Damon simply retained a smile and waited patiently for the animal to get where he was going.

“I’m Collot. I’m in room 701 of the carnivore dorm. We were the uhh…”

Damon finally put two and two together. He hadn’t spoken, but this dog was a part of the group he confronted yesterday. “You were the table with the fennec from last night. Voss, was it?”

“Uhh… yeah. That’s him. Sorry it got awkward yesterday. I know he’s a loud mouth, but he really didn’t mean anything by it. He’s really a cool guy if you get to know him. ”

“Don’t sweat it. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it. We are the newcomers after all.” Damon stuck out his sturdy hand to the canine. “I’m Damon. Pleasure to meet you Collot.”

The dog studied the hand for a moment before taking hold of it. “Yeah man, likewise.” His fur was pressed hard into his skin. The Spartan’s grip could probably crush his hand, but it was just firm pressure for now. Still, the sheepdog’s tail began to wag and he grinned.

After the shake broke, Collot sniffed the air a little and peered around Damon’s broad shoulder. “Hey I think your buddies are here.”

The medic did an about face to see his comrades turn the corner. Once again it looked as if Damon were staring into the mirror when he saw his brother. As for Ana, she looked like she was radiating an aura of white. Her dress was the exact shade of her skin and it was hard to tell where one ended and one began. “You two clean up well.”

Ana playfully wrinkled her face at the sight of Damon. “You could use some work.”

Damon responded with a roll of his eyes. “Thanks. Anyway, Collot, this is my teammate Ana and my brother Nomad. Ana, Nomad, this is Collot, canine from room 701.” Ana smiled while Nomad just nodded.

Collot perked up like a lightbulb just turned on. “Hey, you guys want to eat with us? There's some free seats.”

Damon checked on what the other Spartans thought. Ana was indifferent with a lighthearted shrug and smile. Nomad pretended that he wasn’t listening to the conversation by surveying the rest of the room.

The medic cut his eyes back to the dog. “Sure. Sounds good. We’ll grab some food and be right over.”

The canine returned to his roommates while the trio went to grab their plates. Damon looked at their new table and watched how the news broke. The hyena and coyote looked perturbed, perhaps even outright scared. Voss was mad, wagging his tiny finger at the sheepdog. The wolf who had caught them yesterday was having a side conversation with the labrador; both of them being far more calm than the rest of their table.

“Hope this doesn’t turn around and bite us in the ass.” Nomad said quietly out of the side of his mouth.

“Come on. I’m the one trying to build bridges here. The least you can do is look like you want to be here.” Damon piled some scrambled eggs on his plate.

“Kind of hard since I don’t want to be.” The backbiting brother reached for a bowl of cereal with raisins.

Before leaving the meal line, Damon faced Nomad one last time. “Then fake it.”

The trio approached the 701 group. The long table was split between the sheepdog, fennec, and hyena who ended their side, and the wolf, lab, and coyote who ended the opposite side.

Collot stood and made respective introductions. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Damon, Nomad, Ana, welcome to the 701 table. This is Voss, you’ve met him, and Miguno.”

“Hey.” The hyena shot them an anxious smile.

“Over here is Legosi, Jack, and Durham.” The wolf and coyote just raised their hands in greeting.

The labrador gave a far chipper salutation. “Hi there. Glad you could join us.” 

“Glad your friend extended the invitation.” Damon responded.

The air became tense. It felt like a Mexican standoff as the Spartans were deciding where to sit. Damon made the first move, sitting next to Collot, with Nomad sitting next to him. Ana took the seat next to the wolf and capped out the space on her side. To say that the gray furred animal looked uneasy would have been an understatement.

While getting established, Damon made a point to not lay out his utensil meticulously, opting to put them right on the plate. Damon and Ana followed his lead and set their pieces where they pleased. The three still put their heads down for a moment and closed their eyes. The brothers whispered something at the end that the canine group hadn’t heard before. It sounded like they labored out a breath.

Damon raised his head and casually rested an elbow on the table, leaning over his plate. It was strange trying to break his posture after doing the same thing day in and day out for the past few years.  _ “They will adapt. They always do.” _ The words of his commander echoed in his head. He shoveled some eggs into his mouth to buy him some time to find a topic to talk about. “So, we got invitations to the Drama Club yesterday.”

Jack’s resting grin widened. “Oh! Legosi has been in Drama Club for a few years now. I’m sure he could tell you anything you want.”

A face of panic appeared on the wolf as the soldiers turned their eyes to him. “Uhh, yeah... what is it you guys want to know?”

“What’s it like?” Ana asked before taking a sip of orange juice.

Legosi got a grip and relaxed himself a little. “It’s fun. We have an Actor’s Team, a Dance Team, and a Production Team. I work in production controlling the lights, so I get to see everything.” His swaying tail gave away his inclination towards the activity.

“Cool, I think I'll check it out.” Ana beamed a smile at the wolf and turned to the brothers. “What about you two?”

“I’m not really into plays. Does this place have any medical programs? I really want to learn about naturopathy.” Damon put some more salt on his eggs. He looked up to find the whole table, even his comrades, were staring at him with puzzled expressions. 

“Naturopathy? The study of natural medicine? Like with herbs and stuff? Nobody?” He cut his eyes to his fellow Spartans. “I’ve talked with you two about this.”

“We were probably either asleep or ignoring you. ” Strangely enough it had been Ana who took the opportunity to trash his interest first. “Not to mention naturopathy doesn’t do much for plasma burns and bullet holes.” That comment seemed hardly appropriate given present company.

“Alright, well I’ll go ahead and take that as a no. Any community gardens?” The canines questioned each other with glances and returned with unsure shrugs. Damon took in another forkful thinking about what else he might be into.

The lab weaved back into the conversation. “What about you Nomad? Got any ideas for clubs?”

Nomad pondered the question. “I like sports. Are any teams here particularly good?”

“I’m on the Baseball Team.” Durham declared. “We usually have open slots for newcomers that want to try out. We have our first practice this week after… you know.” The Pelican had brought most athletic clubs to a screeching halt until the fields could be repaired. “I can wait for you at the front steps after classes.”

“Yeah, that’d help a lot. Still learning my way around.” Nomad had heard about baseball before when his drill instructors had talked about it, but he had really no idea what it was. They didn’t exactly have a lot of leisure time on Onyx.

The chat continued for another 15 minutes and the group slowly began loosening up. Even Voss had a small smirk when Nomad talked about how much of a nerd Ana was. To which, Jack backed up the female Spartan on the importance of intellect. The groups eventually parted so they could head off to classes.

The trio were now in their element. They were sponges for the new information that flowed from each instructor. Attentive and hyper-focused, they committed just about every word to memory. Their hands flew as they made notes and highlighted key sections. Lunch brought a brief break filled with more small talk and funny stories from the veteran students. Before they knew it, school was over for the day. The three went their separate ways from their last class, agreeing to come together again for dinner.

-

Nomad and Durham were now walking to the athletic department’s fieldhouse. The coyote explained how the team had just finished their season. They hadn’t even made it to the playoffs this year. The first string starting pitcher had tore his shoulder in the tenth game. Durham had stepped up to take his place with little success. Apparently Cherryton’s Baseball Team had been on a steady decline for the past three years. It was rumored that rival schools had been recruiting, but there was no solid evidence for it. Still, they practiced as much as they could to get better.

The two stepped through the Athletic Director’s door. Behind his desk was a prodigious bison with a pair of magnetic glasses that he unsnapped and placed below his great black mane. His voice rumbled and Nomad could swear the room shook. “Ah, one of the Spartan boys, I had been meaning to send an invitation. Guess our starting pitcher beat me to it.” He stood and outstretched his hand, which Nomad shook. “I’m Chiyonokuni, but most people call me Chiyo.”

“Nomad. Pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Same here. Sure Durham has given you the baseball team’s tragic tale, but we’re planning on making a comeback this year. You played before son?”

“No sir, but I’m a quick learner.”

“Hmm… alright. Durham grab your glove from the locker room and a couple balls. No reason we can’t get some of the basics out of the way.” The coyote went off further into the complex and the bison rummaged under his desk for something. He pulled out an old glove and tossed it to the Spartan. “Get changed, put that on, and meet me out in the field when you’re ready.”

After doing as he was told, Nomad stepped onto the field. Rows of other players were catching and throwing in the outfield. Durham was on the pitcher’s mound warming up with an orangutan catcher. 

A heavy bison hand clamped on his shoulder. “How does the glove feel?”

“Good sir.”

“Good. Now, let's talk about basics.” Chiyo proceeded to tell him the premise of the game. One side tries to score by hitting the ball and going around all three bases while the other side tries to get them out. After three outs teams switch and after each side goes nine times the winner is the one with the most people to cross home plate. It was simple enough.

“Every single player, no matter what position they are, has to bat. So let’s start with that first.” He instructed Nomad on how to hold the bat, how to get into the proper stance, and how to swing. Once the newcomer felt confident, Chiyo backed away.

“Alright Durham, give him a strike.” The bison leaned against the chain link fence behind the orangutan.

The canine nodded before leaning over and squinting. He then straightened up before bringing his leg to his chest and his glove to the side of his head. His arm then stretched out with the white and red sphere in hand. 

Of the several augmentations Nomad possessed, one was an alteration of bioelectrical nerve transduction to shielded electronic transduction. This provides a 300% increase in reaction time, allowing him to see in slow motion. By the time the ball was halfway to the plate, Nomad had already calculated the precise moment to hit the ball for maximum velocity.

Unfortunately, he would never get to see it fly off out of the field. The moment the bat made contact the covers of the ball ripped from their lacing, making a type of air brake that caused it to sputter out into left field. The crack from the bat was loud enough to catch the attention of the other players and they watched the shredded orb as it bounced twice before coming to a stop.

“Holy shit. You crushed that thing.” The orangutan commented as he pulled off his catcher’s face mask.

Chiyo gave a hearty chuckle at the sight. “That he did Kasey. That he did. I think you’re going to make a fine addition to the team son.”


	5. FNGs Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Mark. Hope everyone had a great weekend and you are all hangin tough. Shadow put in some extra time for this one. Hope you all like it. Comments/criticisms always welcome. Enjoy.

Damon felt awkward. He had nothing to do. He would look bizarre if he just wandered the halls, and he didn't feel like retreating to his room just yet. The Spartan had heard a passing conversation about a pool on one of the rooftops. Maybe they have a swim team. He took it as an excuse to explore and started climbing the stairs of the far side building.

He thought back to how surreal the past week had been. Going from a potential combat deployment to a "regular" school. Nothing about him was regular. The young man's life had been on fast forward since he was first inducted into the Spartan III program. He had learned how to properly set up ambushes and patch sucking chest wounds, not how to make friends and influence people! He left the Onyx training complex ready to kill and die for the UNSC. Now, without a war and an enemy to fight, he's living a life that was never on his scope of possibility.

Damon finally arrived at the rooftop's door. Above it was a sign in disrepair, having never been fixed. Gardening Club. Huh, must have been disbanded.

Damon was soon proven wrong as he opened the door. The rooftop was a vibrant array of living colors that spanned nearly the whole surface. It was quite beautiful. One type of flower stuck out to him from all the others. Chrysanthemums. Some were blooming a little early. They were the best during November.

A terrible scraping noise tore through the air. It was coming from a brick arch that guarded the path through the vegetation. A little white hare was dragging a bulky potted tree. The rim of the pot came up to her chest. She was definitely having a rough go at it.

Damon moved forward, about to offer his assistance, when she tugged hard and tripped. The pot's base had been caught on a divot created by water drops over the years. The tree tipped and threatened to fall on top of her. Damon kicked his foot up and caught the rim with the underside of his shoe. The back of the rabbit's little head and upper neck landed on the face of his other shoe. She looked straight up at him.

The Spartan's eyes met with her's for a brief moment. Her eyes were pure black. It reminded him of the dead zones of space. He watched those blotches of black for hours after his augmentations. They were the first things he could look at after his procedures that didn't hurt his new retinas. It was the void, and he often lost himself in it. He pulled himself from his memories and reached out to help. Her delicate white hand barely wrapped around three of his fingers as she got to her feet.

She didn't seem frightened despite his unexpected arrival and intimidating stature. She probably just hadn't registered what happened yet. "Thanks." Or maybe she did.

"No problem." Damon kicked the pot back onto its base before squatting and picking the whole thing up. "Where do you want it?"

The rabbit led him to a row of similar looking trees. There were scratch marks on the ground where she had been dragging them. "Right over here."

He put the plant in its place and stood tall. The hare had to crane her neck up to see his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just roaming. Didn't know there was a Gardening Club."

She laughed at that. "Not many people do. I'm the club president, and the only member."

Wow, she must be pretty dedicated to keep this up by herself. Might as well come right out with it. "Are you accepting new members?"

"Uh… sure. Didn't know your kind tended plants."

That sounded like a Nomad comment. She doesn't seem to have any filters. While he didn't like that characteristic in public, it was something he appreciated in private. Honesty is the best policy after all. "We usually don't. I'm the only one who thought about it. Well, I was thinking more of botanical medicine."

"Oh really? I'm thinking of pursuing a degree in botany next year in college. Just coasting through this last year before then."

"That's a good plan. You certainly look like you have a green thumb." Damon looked around and realized he hadn't given her his name. He leaned down a little to address her properly. "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Damon, First Year."

Her face took on a surprised look upon hearing his grade. She would have been more surprised if he actually gave his age. "I'm Haru, Third Year. Nice to meet you."

Damon stood tall once again. "What can I do to help?"

The Spartan threw his backpack to the side and rolled up his sleeves. The dwarf rabbit shared a list of tasks to tend to the plants. Most consisted of preparing them for Winter. Together, they cut back what was dead, diseased, or had insects and covered the vegetation with compost. There was a little nip in the air, and Damon could tell the first frost wasn't far away. In a little more than an hour they had completed everything she had planned for the rest of the week.

Damon followed Haru to a deep box utility sink. He had to hide a smile as she pulled out a little stool to climb up to it. "You did a good job, you're a good worker." She sounded stiff, like she was reading a script for the first time.

"Thank you." He lathered up his hands with some soap. The bottle read BRAWN: HEAVY DUTY, TOUGH ON STAINS AND EASY ON FUR.

After washing up, he dried his hands and rolled down his sleeves. "So, I guess I'll come back next week?"

"Yeah, I'll have some more work by then. Bye." She turned her attention back to her hands, making sure they were clean. Apparently the club was over.

"Bye." Damon threw the straps of his backpack on and left down the stairs. As he was heading down, a young buck was heading up. They exchanged glances, but neither changed pace as they passed.

2 Hours Ago

Ana left her teammates and followed the directions on the invitation letter out to Building 3. She pondered why the organization had sent them invitations in the first place. The only reason she was going was because of overwhelming curiosity. The closest thing she'd ever seen to a play was reenactments of battles throughout human history. They're all tragedies.

The analyst strolled into the Drama Club's practice room. It was rectangular with an open floor and a mirror that covered an adjacent long wall. There was an elevated mock stage on one short side and a balcony where lighting equipment was set up. A female cheetah was stretching on a rail attached to the mirror wall.

She spotted the Spartan and seemed excited to see her. "Oh! You made it. You're Ana, right?"

"Yes ma'am." Ana responded in a rather rigid manner.

The cheetah tilted her head slightly with a half smile. "You don't have to call me ma'am. I'm not a teacher." She looked over the newcomer with interest. "You're strong. You'd be a great dancer. It's not for everyone, but you look like you thrive in difficult situations."

She was trying to appeal to her; she was trying to recruit her. What the cheetah had said was like what a recruiter had told her after her home, Miridem, was glassed. "You look strong. You look like you want to fight. Not everyone gets the chance to be a Spartan, but you look like you won't waste it." Like the recruiter, this cheetah managed to influence her.

"You got me. I can't stay away from anything difficult." Ana finally cracked a smile.

"Glad to hear it. I'm Sheila, Lead Choreographer of the Dance Team." Her head turned to further down the room. "Female changing room is over there. Your locker is the second one on the left. Someone from the front office left something for you."

The Spartan made her way to her locker, passing a few other female animals who had made it there before her and were now heading out. They did double takes as they went, having just seen a human up close for the first time. Ana found that the storage unit had been prepped for her arrival. A water bottle, some new clothes, a combination lock, and a note. It read: Good luck, don't kill anyone, and take your tacpad off. Tina. She had probably been listening in on them whenever she could through her wrist mounted gadget. Ana crunched up the note and threw it away, but not out of spite. In a way, it was kind of nice that she was looking out for them. She changed, taking her tacpad off, and locked her unit.

Ana came back out ready to start. The first thing they did was stretch. Sheila really wanted to hammer the importance of that point home. The soldier did as the cheetah had earlier and rested her foot on the metal bar. She then leaned until her head hovered above her knee and held the position.

Sheila nodded in approval. "Good to see that you're already loose. That will make learning and getting comfortable with the moves that much quicker."

The cheetah led the group into some basic calisthenics to get warmed up. It was idle movement for the Spartan and she used the free time to look around. She finally noticed Legosi on the second floor where he was adjusting the lights. The wolf was nothing more than a hunched shadow, steering the light away from him. For a weaker species he would appear creepy and threatening, but to Ana he just looked sad. She finally turned her attention back to Sheila as they moved on to some more drills.

There was nothing that was particularly challenging throughout practice. Even though it was her first day she felt like she truly enjoyed the activity. Every movement started out as robotic as she learned it, but as she did it over and over it slowly became more fluid. As her moves became more polished she was able to transition faster. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Just like combat maneuvers. Her drill instructor would have laughed in her face if she ever made that comparison around him.

Even though they all fell under Drama Club, each team was compartmentalized and separated from the others. Guess we mesh everything together later. Sheila eventually called the Dance Team's practice.

"Good job today everyone, especially our first years." Ana wished she hadn't made that comment. She got enough attention as it was without praise. In the end she just smiled and accepted it. "Practice again tomorrow. I want you ready as soon as you can. The less time we spend on warming up the more we can spend it on new sequences. You're dismissed."

Ana had to walk to the other side of the room to grab her water that she had left. By the time she walked into the locker room some other girls were already changing. Two were talking about her. She passively listened in.

"Did you see her skin? How pale she was?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with her? She looks sickly."

"I don't know, but I don't think she's sick. She's too muscular for that. She looks like a guy."

Yeah, and I'll kick your ass like a guy too. No, no. Can't do that now. She would have to let it go… almost. Ana didn't even change, just folding her white school uniform and stashing it in her backpack. She attached her tacpad and shut her locker just loud enough to get the attention of the two animals, a goat and a chipmunk. Dread crossed their expressions as Ana simply smiled at them and left.

The analyst grinned at her small victory before her carnivorous Captain came to her. "Hey Ana, the Acting Team Captain wants to meet you. His office is over here." Ana followed her directions to the side room.

The Spartan knocked before the voice inside commanded her to enter. As she crossed over she found she already knew who the beast was. Louis the Red Deer, the next potential Beastar of Cherryton Academy. His father is the current president of the Horns Conglomerate, a very powerful and influential company with stakes and shares across a multitude of markets. Even if she had not known this already, his air gave off some major precedence. One of his hands was balled up into the other as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her.

"You wanted to see me?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Yes, I wanted to meet you personally and welcome you to the club. It's not every week we get a new species introduced to the campus." His voice was smooth and eloquent. It was a voice of sophistication. "I'm Louis, leader of the Actor's Team. It's a pleasure having you join."

The Spartan saw straight through the formalities. It was painfully obvious he didn't like her. His eyes traced her superior form as if probing for a weak point. "I'm Ana." She stated coldly.

Louis' eyes snapped back to hers. "Well Ana, I hope that you are adjusting well to the academy. How was your first day?"

"It was fine. Classes are interesting... the Dance Team is spirited." They both noted how curt she was being.

"That's good to hear. I have come to find that putting passion into one's work yields better results."

"Couldn't agree more." Ana wanted to find a way out of this little exchange, but she also understood she had no standing in order to dismiss herself. Not yet anyway.

Louis' eyes wandered to her tacpad. "What is that?"

"Arm mounted tactical database system linked to my biometrics... a small computer only I can use." She added the last part to insinuate his lack of knowledge on the matter. It was both true and insulting.

The deer's gaze narrowed. "Hmm… I hope you don't need to wear it all the time. It wouldn't look good on stage."

Ana couldn't help but feel that his comment was more directed at her than her gadget. She tipped her head forward ever so slightly, like a stalking predator. "Don't worry, I'll take it off before I go out." The tension in the room was palpable now.

Louis leaned back into his seat, breaking off from the engagement. He had seen all he needed. "Good. Practice hard and I'm sure you'll find a place here. You may go."

Ana turned and left without another word. After he knew the soldier was gone Louis breathed a heavy sigh. He'd been tensing his shoulders during the whole interaction. They were sore now and he tried rubbing some of the stiffness out. He needed to see Haru.

The Gamma students met up for dinner after their activities. They shared the events from their first day with their canine tablemates. The coyote was more than happy to expound on Nomad's exploits.

"Not only can he make pitches explode, he's got a ridiculous arm too! He threw from middle field all the way home and the catcher didn't even have to move! There are major league players that struggle with that." The 701 crew hadn't seen Durham this excited in a while. They were happy for him. Nomad graciously accepted the praise.

Jack's tail was wagging a mile a minute in response to his friend. He turned to Legosi, and subsequently Ana who was behind him. The lab could tell the wolf was in one of his funks. "So how did Ana look Legosi?"

"Uh... she was pretty good I guess." His focus was more on his food than the conversation at hand.

"Oh, that's good." That had not gone the way Jack hoped. He got a peek at the female Spartan who seemed to have not acknowledged anyone was talking about her, she kept a smile on her face. The dog could tell it wasn't real.

Nomad elbowed his brother, drawing everyone's attention from the awkward section of the table. "So what were you doing all this time?"

"Well, I found the Gardening Club on the rooftop. It's on the building next to this one. The whole thing was being run by one little dwarf rabbit." Damon took a bit of his soy burger after his sentence was finished.

"One little rabbit for an entire club? That's quite the workload." Collot broke in.

"That's what I thought. She almost crushed herself with a potted tree when I first walked in. She's determined I'll give her that." The medic thought of how careful she was with every herb and flower. "She tends to that garden like her own life is at stake. Like it's a sacred duty."

"Well she is a rabbit. Maybe she just really wants to make good salads for herself." Nomad's input bought a few laughs from Voss and Miguno.

Damon closed his eyes for a moment to try and remember the garden more clearly. "Yeah, maybe."

The meal and conversation continued on without Legosi or Ana. The wolf thought it best to finish and leave first, but the Spartan beat him to it. She silently departed before the brothers could say something to her. Legosi watched as she walked away and only then realized how callous he may have come off as.

Ana didn't really care what that wolf had said. Nor the red deer. It was the cheetah's words that had brought back the reality she had been trying to avoid for some time. She was too strong and she knew it. She was self-conscious about it and despised her physique that made it so. The desire she had possessed for power existed only when there was something to use the power on. Now there was nothing, no one to fight here. However, conviction did not exist in her psychotic state.

What if I stop taking my smoothers? She had to take her smoothers because there was little these weaker creatures could do to stop her. She could do as she pleased and not have the ability to feel guilt for her actions. She is the apex predator.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

She opened her door and shook her head, forcing those thoughts out of her mind. She noticed a black box on her bed. Ana shut and locked the door behind her before walking over and checking for her weapon. The M6 was still there and she relaxed. She opened the box to find a glass bottle in a foam casing. It was a smoother refill jar. A message popped up on her tacpad. It was from Tina.

B306: Using supplemental ingredients due to lack of resources. There should not be any side effects. If there is, record them and message me immediately.

G127: Acknowledged.

Ana refilled one of her injectors and stopped to look at the needle. She sighed before sticking it in her neck. The Spartan set the box aside and laid down on her bed. She pulled up her tacpad and began monitoring her stocks.

In her free time she had started trading, using inside information by hacking into dozens of different companies. New contracts, crop reports, scandals, there was nothing she couldn't find. Their cyber security was child's play. Was it illegal? Yes. Did she care? No. It wasn't her money she originally invested anyway. Yafya had given the Gamma students some funds to cover some living expenses. She had transferred them into a fake offshore account then manipulated the money from there. Her net worth was now about 2.4 million Yen and growing. Of course, she couldn't touch the money for now. To her it was just a fun numbers game.

Tina was preparing for tonight's patrol. It would go one of two ways: the gangs would go all out and try to kill them on sight; or they would hunker down and try to recover from last night. It really didn't matter what they did because she would be ready. She clipped and unclipped her rifle from her back to make sure her magnetic holster was working. Earlier in the day she had lined the weapon's stock with adhesive strips that contained metal with an opposite charge of the holster. It was working quite well.

She noticed there was no mechanical clicking, or restructuring of the underground base going on. The Spartan II wasn't here. Tina swept her helmet around for James but couldn't find him. She tracked his IFF tag to find that he was almost half a kilometer above her. Finally went out huh?

Tina entered the elevator, gave her credentials, and headed up. The Police Station had added the Spartans to their roster and they could move throughout the building without Yafya or his rodent assistants.

She exited onto the helipad. There was a small garage type area that held parts to the helicopter Yafya flew. James sat on the edge of the pad next to the pot-bellied mechanic. The soldier's helmet was off to the side and the wind coming off the skyscraper blew through his auburn hair. The pig was babbling on about something and every few words James would nod his head in agreement, or in automation, Tina couldn't really tell which. The animal heard the elevator door shut and he immediately raised himself on his stubby legs.

"Well, the lady is here. Looks like I should get back to work." The pudgy pig half walked, half wobbled to the garage. He turned his head to Tina with an exhausted expression. "Geez, that guy is a real chatterbox. I wouldn't get him started if I was you."

Tina turned back to James who was already putting his helmet on again. He was soon on his feet and heading toward the elevator.

She wanted to say something to him. Tell him he didn't need to leave on her account. Tell him that he was free to talk to her. Tell him something, anything, but that wasn't how an officer addressed an enlisted man. That was what James was, enlisted. More like enslaved. If he had something to say, he would do so of his own volition.

Petty Officer First Class James-444. Who are you?

Tina followed James into the elevator. They each choose their floors with Ana opting to get off at floor 57. She didn't look back as James continued to descend.


	6. Pandora's Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello comrades, hope everyone is having a good day or night. If not, push through to tomorrow. As always, Shadow = Best editor, feel free to comment/criticize, and I hope you enjoy.

Ana stumbled through the glasslands of her homeworld in a daze. She choked on the strangling heat that filled her lungs and burned her skin. Shards of superheated rubble pierced her feet and left a trail of blood wherever she went. She could hear the screams of those who were wandering like her.

This is hell. It has to be. 

This couldn’t be Miridem, her home filled with vast green fields as far as the eye could see. Her home where she and her sisters would run from dusk till dawn on their little adventures until mother called them back. This couldn’t be it.

She looked to the sky where civilian evacuation ships were trying desperately to flee the smoldering world, only to be torn to pieces by Seraph fighters. Where there were once almost a hundred, only a few managed to break the planet's gravity well. All Ana could do was watch as flaming wreckage returned to the planet and blended in with the hellish surface. There would be no rescues. There would be no survivors. This planet was already dead. Another display of the might of the Covenant.

The air crackled and sizzled far off behind her. She turned to see an Elite Major on a hill, plasma sword in hand. His bronze armor flickered in the apocalyptic light. The monster was at least two and a half meters tall, blocking out whatever sunlight wasn’t already suffocated by the clouds of fallout. His mandibles moved individually, each with their own rows of teeth. He approached her, slowly wading through the mounds of crystalline destruction on his way down the slope. 

Ana stood her ground. She was going to die here today, and that was alright. There was never a logical way for humanity to win. So death was the only option. 

Might as well make it glorious.

At twenty meters he stopped and roared a challenge. Ana accepted with a war cry of her own. They charged each other at full speed. The Elite reared back his arm for a heavy stab with his sword. Sloppy. The Spartan took advantage of this and dodged into the monster, grabbing his forearm as she did. She used his forward momentum against him, she slid her back to her opponent and threw him over her shoulder. He was lighter than she had anticipated. The creature landed with a thud on the metal floor. It would be an easy finisher.

Ana lifted up her heavy metal foot and curb stomped his helmet into his head. Red paste and gray matter evacuated out of his skull, covering her SPI boot in the gore.

Wait, boot? Metal flooring? Red blood? Where was she?

The Spartan looked up from her victim and caught the eyes of a horrified scientist. The woman was trembling at the sight before her. She had just witnessed Ana kill a UNSC marine.

-

Nomad was restless. While he was used to his mind constantly running, it felt like it was going into overdrive tonight. He tried doing some handstand pushups to wear himself out, but it wasn’t doing much. Checking out the clock, he found it was already 4am. Guess I’ll get something to eat. 

The Spartan walked out into the hall to find the kitchenette’s light was on. Sitting at the square table was his brother. He was playing chess against himself, spinning the board around every move.

“You’re never going to win. You know that right?” Nomad said as he opened a cabinet to grab some large carnivore protein bars. The Gamma students thought it would be a smart investment. The school meals never really filled their stomachs. They ate these bars between classes.

“Au contraire, I actually never lose.” Damon said as he put himself into checkmate. “Wanna break my streak?”

“Sure. It’s always a pleasure embarrassing you.” Nomad laughed with his usual misplaced confidence.

Damon reset the board and pulled out his phone. He didn’t use it at all and even had the battery removed most of the time. Tapping through a few screens, he pulled up a two sided countdown app and put 30 seconds on the clock. It was their usual game of bullet chess. 30 seconds to checkmate or draw. Regular games were futile, due to the brothers’ heightened processing power. Those would always end in a draw.

Nomad was white and made the first move, tapping his side of the clock. The moment the timer switched, the medic moved a black piece. Their hands were blurs on the board. Within the first 3 seconds they had each made five moves. Their eyes darted back and forth. Damon watched for places to trap his brother; Nomad searched for weak points in his brother’s defense. The first eight matches were draws. They were evenly matched like usual. Damon finally caught his twin when Nomad tried baiting the medic out through mid, effectively leaving himself open on the side. The mistake was punished with a swift checkmate. Nomad cursed under his breath.

Damon didn’t gloat in his victory, instead using it as a teaching moment. “I’ve been telling you to study Sicilian Defense variations. You’re far too aggressive.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Nomad was frustrated, but Damon could tell the game wasn’t entirely to blame. His brother had a specific tell when something was wrong. He was biting the inside of his cheeks. The medic could see it when his face would distort.

“What’s wrong?” Damon put the pieces back and set the board aside.

“The… smoothers aren’t right, are they? I mean, that’s why we’re up right?” It wasn’t the first time they’d gotten a bad batch. The concoctions had to be finely measured for the desired result. Too much of the antipsychotic agent would leave them lethargic. Too much bipolar integration agent would make them too numb or too sensitive. Too little of either would defeat the purpose.

Damon nodded. “They went too light on the anti agent. I’ll let Tina know for our next batch. Until then, just be careful alright? Don’t want you flying off the hinges.”

Nomad smiled and stopped biting his cheek. “No promises.” He stood and shoved his seat back into place. “I’ll see you at the track.” The Spartan walked back down the hall, unwrapping his protein bar.

-

Tina kicked in the jaguar’s kneecap, causing the animal to double over in pain. His leg bowed at an unnatural angle, bone shredding through the back. He yelled in pain, calling out to his friends for help. A group of ten Madaragumi backed away slowly from the Spartan and her most recent opponent. Their numbers had been cut in half since the start of the fight. She loomed over the fallen who were either unconscious or incapacitated. 

Tina had tried going non-lethal tonight, she really had. Unfortunately for her adversaries, a young cat had pulled a knife. Wrong move. EOF (Escalation of Force) protocol dictates that she can match the force of the opposition. When the kid pulled a switchblade, she pulled a ten inch Tanto knife. He came at her with a slash, but she had already caught his wrist. She forced his arm back over his shoulder, bending his back and jutting his chest out. Coming down with an overhead stab, the cold black steel made short work of the boy, driving straight through his sternum and into his heart. She let go of his wrist and the body dropped. He died right there on the dark pavement.

She twirled the bloodied blade in her hand. Some crimson splattered onto her armor, she’d take care of that later. Of the nine that remained, one wasn’t scared. He was more unsure. The jaguar ripped a pistol from his jacket, not knowing the decision had already killed him. Dumbass. The Tanto entered his cornea, perfectly splitting his eyeball down the middle. His muscles involuntarily contracted at his death, causing him to pull his gun’s trigger. The round hit Tina right in the faceplate.

Well, it would have, if not for her energy shielding that blocked the bullet and sparkled a brilliant yellow. The crumpled piece of lead fell harmlessly to the ground. Three cat’s turned tail at the revelation of their inferiority, sprinting as fast as their feline legs could. Smart.

Of the last five, three were in shock. They were practically out of the fight already. One brave, or stupid, Madaragumi looked to the now abandoned weapon, with the gangster beside him shaking his head. It’s over kid. Don’t try it.

Tina hovered her hand over her magnum. It felt like a scene from spaghetti western. “I’d take your friend’s advice. You might be fast, but you’re not that fast.”

The cat cursed and called his stunned companions back. They ran off from the scene. Tina reached down and picked up the pistol. She dropped the magazine and dismantled it, throwing the upper and lower sections onto opposing rooftops.

The equine Beastar emerged from a nearby cellar with a briefcase in his left hand. He had a black eye and his right tricep was flayed open with claw marks. Ana was already walking over with a can of biofoam.

She forcefully pulled his arm around, annoyed. A little bit of blood squirted out from her insistent handling. “Told you it was dark down there. I should have gone.” She hilted the nozzle into each of the gashes, filling them with the fizzy substance.

Yafya gritted his teeth as it burned into his muscle. It feels like fire under my skin, but in an hour it will be just another scar. I would usually take a day to heal from something like this. Maybe I can see if Tina wants to sell the formula for this stuff. It wasn’t the first time she had treated him in the past few days. The horse had been more gung ho than usual thanks to his Spartan assistant. She was starting to get tired of his recklessness.

“What do we have here?” Tina pulled the briefcase from her partner’s hand before he had time to explain. As if he could stop me from taking it. It was a high end combination locked case. The soldier walked over to the fallen gunman and retrieved her knife from his eye, wiping the excess red fluids on his face fur.

She stuck the tip of the Tanto between the small gap at the case’s opening and busted the lock open. Inside were formulas and recipes for different types of drugs. One in particular caught the Commander’s attention. It was a mixture of herbivore blood and bone dust that freed carnivores from the guilt of eating meat. Bloodbone. Not too creative when it comes to naming, are we?

“There’s a small lab down there. Knocked out a few thugs and the rest ran out of the front.” Yafya took in the scene before him. “Guess they tried to call for backup.”

“Yep. Have the PD heard anything else from the market?” Tina hadn’t picked up any calls from her scanners.

“No, the rest of the gangs have been silent since yesterday. The Madaragumi have been the only ones active.” He saw the pool of blood that surrounded the switchblade panther, its eyes were glazed over. “Not anymore I suppose.”

“Sun up in an hour. You need to get some rest.” Even in darkness Tina could see the bags under Yafya’s eyes. He was trying to keep up with her. An exercise in futility.

“If only you showed up thirty years ago. We would have cleaned this city up in no time.” He smiled at her indifferent faceplate.

-

Upon returning to the Police Station, the Commander received messages from the Gamma students about their deficient smoothers. She forwarded the issues to the pharmaceutical company that Yafya put in charge of the Spartan’s medicine. They would need some more time to rectify the issue and develop a new batch. It would be another few days at least. Tina took off her helmet and ran her fingers through her hair. It had only been a week and some strands had already fallen beyond regulation.

She exited the elevator to find James waiting for her at a decent sized “table.” The piece was made out of excess wood pallets with a steel sheet as the table top. Where did he get the steel from? Resting on it was a touchscreen monitor and two laptops. The heavy was wearing a rucksack loaded down with gear.

“Moving out James?” Tina joked as she walked towards the monitor.

The Spartan’s smile dissipated as she got closer. Displayed on the screen were bodies of herbivores hanging on iron hooks. They were gutted and prepped for further processing. This wasn’t anything new to her. She knew plenty about the Black Market and the legal loopholes that allowed it to exist. The real problems were in the pictures of the living herbivores who were being transported on box trucks. Several of them were children. The loopholes did not cover this type of activity. 

The shots were taken relatively close to both the victims and criminals. A regular person should have been able to see the photographer. She saw the credentials on the monitor were UNSC.

James.

The photos were dynamic and could be interacted with. She tapped on the face of a caribou who was in shackles being dragged along by a masked crocodile. Kiyo, 23, Social Worker. Last seen 3 days ago. 

How did he…

Tina turned to the silent soldier to see that he’d moved across the room. He currently stood over an opening in the metal floor. That’s where the steel came from. She marched over to take a look at the opening. It was about two meters by two meters with an iron hatch in the center that was about a meter in diameter. James lifted the lid to reveal a ladder that led even deeper into the earth.

The silence from his Mjolnir helmet broke, revealing a voice of gravel. “It’s connected to a maintenance area in the decommissioned section of the city’s subway. From there I can move throughout most of the underground without being detected. I’ve been reconning the movements of the major meat suppliers. I have several locations marked and a contact in the area who can take in these kinds of victims. I wanted to collect hard evidence and give you a briefing before making this request.”

James stood tall and faced Tina head on. “Permission to operate autonomously ma’am.”

Tina felt it was wise to take longer to flesh out a more effective strategy. It would be smart to have a full discussion with Yafya about the possible implications this may produce. The thing was, she didn’t really care what anyone else had to say. James may be an enlisted man, but he had just as much experience and expertise as she did. Perhaps even more. If they had both been in the same program then they would more than likely be the same rank now. He knows what he’s doing. Let him go.

“I want weekly updates about your activities. You are free to engage at your own discretion, but do not kill any herbivores under any circumstances. We are trying to separate ourselves from the carnivores for the time being. Keep moving and do not underestimate them, some of those animals have very keen tracking abilities. I want to be notified about both gang and drug related activities as soon as you catch wind of them.” Tina took a second glance at the monitor. She knew why he wanted to go. He saw a part of himself in those chained up children. “Stick to the shadows, Spartan.”

The hatch clunked closed, and like that he was gone. The commander would have a few hours to prepare a briefing before Yafya woke up. She leaned over the monitor and began cross referencing the photographs with locations with known gang hotspots. Gloves are coming off now. Hope the Major secures that funding. We’re going to need a bigger ship at this rate.

-

The large hangar doors parted, revealing an immobilized Kilo-550 to the morning sun. There was extensive damage to the front and belly from the elongated impact. The wings were detached and suspended in their own workspaces. The M370 autocannon had been removed from the nose and was secured in a large storage crate. 

Outside of the hangar, two airstrips had been reserved for the incoming parties. Security teams plagued the area. A crew consisting of several different types of dogs, primates, and two UNSC pilots crossed the threshold and strode over to the ship’s flank. They were scientists and entrepreneurs from around the globe. They wore earpieces and mics interconnected to teams of translators who helped break down the language barriers. Everyone had tablets and writing devices at the ready. 

Major Jones introduced the group. “Good morning everyone. I’m Major Kasha Jones, a pilot of the UNSC. This is my Co-Pilot, Akihiro Muramaki, and this is my D77 Pelican, Kilo-550.” Kasha took a deep breath. This pitch has to go perfectly. “I know it doesn’t look like much as it is now, but the Pelican is one of the most advanced medium spacefaring transports ever designed by mankind. It is 138 metric tons with full armor and is capable of carrying another 70 as payload.”

The tapping, clicking, and scribbling had begun moments after she’d finished her introduction. It threw her off track for a moment, but she quickly regained her footing in the explanation. “It uses two twin sets of hybrid fusion drives for its forward jets and rear thrusters. They are capable of generating a little more than two million joules of force for takeoff. The drives are also used as the system’s main power supply.” The expressions of the animals were hard to properly generalize. Their faces ranged from stunned to giddy to hyper-focused. Nerds. Kasha continued. “The Pelican’s max speed is approximately 650 kilometers per hour in atmosphere. It utilizes a two man crew of a Pilot in the rear seat and a Co-pilot slash Systems Operator in the front seat. The hull is rather complicated so I am going to take this layer by layer starting from the alternating ceramic slash titanium alloy plating with silicone carbide backing.”

After another half hour of intensive overview there were some questions about certain areas that were lost in translation. It didn’t help that Jones wasn’t exactly qualified for explaining how fusion reactors worked. Akihiro tagged in for that part. He helped explain the concept on how the nuclear fusion of deuterium nuclei and helium nuclei can generate massive amounts of energy. All they would need is proper funding and 500 years worth of technological advancements would be brought to the planet on a silver platter.

An older, grayer, pitbull spoke up from the group of conversating eggheads. “How long is it going to take, and how much is this going to cost us?”

The crowd went silent. Money was always the top priority. Jones took the lead for this one. “With a new dedicated work site, full access to required materials, and a round the clock team; we can produce an on site fusion reactor in two or three months for around five trillion yen. It will provide around 2,500 megawatts of power for the surrounding area. We can produce a full Pelican before next Summer ends, and the basic D-77 version will be about eighty billion yen.”

It must have been a good deal because there was an uproar in the group again as they scattered and got in contact with their respective governments and companies. Apparently they were trying to figure out how to divvy up the expenses, with many individuals wanting to take on a greater sum. They all want to bear a greater toll so they can have first pick when they come out. Quid pro quo.

-

The Gamma students were walking on eggshells. Their morning workout had taken some of the edge off and the 701 crew put them at ease during lunch, but by the last class they felt like jumping out of their seats. The last bell rang and the trio were some of the first out of the door.

“Anyone else wish they had punching bags hanging from the ceilings?” Nomad remarked. He was biting the inside of his cheek again. 

Ana took her turn. “Yeah. Really regret not joining Judo Club right about now.” 

“I don’t think they have a weight class for you Ana.” The snarky Spartan snickered. His arm was greeted by two quick jabs from the pale girl. They would have caused bruises on a regular person, but they were love taps to Nomad. “Okay! Calm down snowball, sorry.” He broke off down the hall, it was a quicker route to the field house. “I’ll see you ladies at dinner. Keep it classy.”

Damon scoffed. “What a pain.” He could feel the growing tension in his shoulders.

Ana smirked as she thought about them being twins. “Hard to believe you two are related.”

The medic rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, a genius even in comedy.”

The shorter soldier took a dramatic bow as they walked. She turned to a different exit and switched to their native language. “See you at dinner, and don’t kill anyone.” A passing male duck gave her an inquisitive look as he’d never heard anything like that before.

Damon recited what his brother had said that morning. “No promises.” They smiled as they parted.

Continuing his journey down the hallway, Damon figured it best to just stay in his dorm and study. Best to not have idle hands. He shoved his fists into his pockets. The crowds thinned out into a lesser populated portion of the building. He passed the last staircase before the exit. Just before reaching the door, he heard a commotion from the stairs.

“I’m asking you for the last time fuzzball, where is the money you owe me?” It was a gruff and irritated voice. The Spartan was already moving to the base of the stairs.

A snippy and sharp voice growled back. “Fuck you! I know you cheated during poker night! I don’t owe you or your q-tip lookin’ cronies sh-” The statement was cut short by a pained grunt followed by a hard thump against the school wall.

Damon slowed his pace to sneak as his eyes crested the higher floors horizon. He saw a black bear about his size, flanked by two far shorter snow foxes. One had a stunted tail and the other’s was large and fluffy. Between the ursine’s legs he could make out the prone form of a wolverine. He was clutching his chest where he had been struck, seemingly defeated.

“Wait, wait. I have it…” The bear leaned down to retrieve his winnings. “...right HERE!” He was met by the little beast’s small paw and claws. They tore into his nose and caused him to reel back. As he recovered, the foxes pounced onto their opponent. The three gnashed and clashed in a flurry of violence. It wasn’t long before the dark ursa started stomping toward the group, looking to finish the battle.

Time to make this an even fight. The Spartan snuck up, wrapped his arms around the waist of the bear, locked his hands, and hipped into the bear while arching his back. It was a beautiful suplex that took the beast head over heels, smashing him into the floor with his lower back. His momentum continued and the animal flipped over his face and tumbled down the stairs. The fluffy tailed fox’s eyes went wide as he felt something grab hold of his swishing accessory. A moment later he was ripped out of the tussle by his tail and slung down the stairs, landing on the black bear. The wolverine pinned his final opponent himself and raised a claw above his head.

“Don’t mess with me again.” The fox energetically nodded and the wolverine released him. He went to his comrades.

Damon looked down to see the three scurry off, battered and bruised. He turned back to see the wolverine already licking one of his wounds. The Spartan took a knee and pulled his backpack around to retrieve a little red kit with a white cross. “Need some first aid?”

“No! And I didn’t need help back there.” He continued licking and steered his gaze down the hall. A few students had seen the fight and were now spreading the word. This was going to get around school fast.

On a regular day, Damon would have let it go. Then again, Damon hasn’t had a regular day in a while and he did not appreciate the wolverine’s reaction. “Oh really? Mind explaining to me how you were going to win a fight with a bear and two foxes single handedly?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to you smoothskin. Just leave me alone.” The little beast stood and walked away.

The Spartan shook his head and put his kit away. No good deed goes unpunished. He slipped his backpack back on and went to his dorm.


	7. Do I wanna know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter being a little late and short. Took a little trip and I probably won't upload another chapter until sometime next week. As always, feel free to comment/criticize and tell me what you think. Shadow #1 editor. Have a good one.

Nomad was overwhelmingly exuberant today. Not only had he secured a position on the baseball team yesterday, his brother had become an internet sensation overnight. Apparently someone had recorded the young soldier suplexing the black bear named Kenta. The video was then uploaded to Zootube and it spread like a wildfire. Luckily the original video started when the bear back pawed the wolverine into the wall, painting Damon as a type of hero. Kenta was a very aggressive Third Year who frequently tried to pick fights, so most people were excited to see him put in his place.

“Oh! Oh! Check this one out!” Nomad was showing the 701 group all the different types of edits animals had made. The jovial soldier had swapped seats with his brother today and was sitting next to Collot. Everyone was laughing at Kenta getting dropped over and over again. Well, everyone except Damon who was going to have to see the headmaster after his last class today. He rested his forehead on the palm of his hand.

“Hey Durham, wanna try wrestling Damon. Bet we could take him together.” Collot said jokingly.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve got a whole season of pitching ahead of me! I’d rather not spend it being dead!” The two laughed at the prospect of taking on the Spartan.

Ana had smiled upon seeing the first few videos, but it had quickly begun to bore her. She still felt antsy due to the lackluster smoothers. Just three more days until restock. Her attention was pointed mostly at her meal which she robotically ate. She looked to her right to see the wolf staring at his own food and not eating it. 

“If you’re trying to use telekinesis, I heard holding the sides of your head and grunting helps.” Ana smiled at her joke as her fingers glided across her tacpad’s screen. She found herself also abandoning her meal.

Legosi, broken from his food induced trance, turned to the pale girl. “What?”

Moron. She exhaled out of her nose and shook her head. “Nothing.”

The rest of the day went by in a flash. The Gamma students were already caught up to their regular First Year classes and were in the process of planning make-up exams with their teachers. Most of the material was simple recap. The only classes they were really interested in were Seaspeak 101 and Intro to Sociology. That’s where the new information was.

Nomad and Ana wished Damon good luck as the last class ended. The medic traipsed to the front office. He passed through the second set of double doors. The first set were for the smaller breeds of animals, the top of them not even reaching his knee. Most of the room was beige and dull except for some art of the school made by students past. Chairs lined the walls in the dead spaces between the various administrative offices. The whole plan was to stay out of here. Well, guess this is it for my school career. 2 days. New record. He gave a smile to the elderly Emperor Penguin behind the front desk.

She returned the smile. “Damon I presume? Headmaster Gon is in his office.”

“Thank you ma’am.” The Spartan continued down the way until he saw the door to the Tiger’s office.

The space for the principal was far larger than any other he'd seen along the way. Cleaning his glasses with a white towelette, the feline looked up and gave a warm grin to the newcomer upon his entrance. One of the first things Damon made note of was the Tiger’s trio of scars on his left eye. He’s been in a scrap too before. The medic turned to find Kenta and his cronies on one side of the room and the wolverine on the other. The bear was glaring daggers at him and rubbing the back of his neck. Damon opted for a chair next to the smaller beast. Enemy of my enemies. 

Gon set his half rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for joining us Mr. Damon. To begin, I would just like to apologize for the actions of your senior students. They forced you into a situation in which you felt that you needed to act violently in order to secure a better resolution. I know that you were acting with good intentions.”

Well that certainly was a better reaction than what I was planning for. “It’s no problem sir.”

“Oh but it is, and I want to get to the bottom of it starting with you Mr. Kenta.” The big cat’s eyes rested on the nervous ursa. “Just what was so important that you found it necessary to backpaw Mr. Jushin into a wall?”

Jushin huh? Guess you bit off a little more than you could chew.

“Well… see… he owed me money and wasn’t paying for it.” The black bear’s intimidating aura from yesterday had disappeared. It was replaced by what equated to a scared kid in Damon’s mind.

The tiger grew sterner with the response. “Are you the leader of a gang here on school grounds? Do you three collect money through violence for a living?”

The trio shook and hung their heads.

“I thought not. As punishment, all three of you will be helping our janitorial staff after class for the next two weeks. You’ll meet in the maintenance room next to the cafeteria. If any of you are absent, or if I receive complaints, I will not hesitate to suspend all of you. You’re dismissed.”

The despondent group stood and exited the room. Adíos suckers. Damon really wanted to crack a smile, but kept a stoic expression.

Once the door closed Gon faced Jushin. “How much do you owe them?”

The wolverine twiddled his claws, not wanting to make eye contact with the headmaster. “5000 Yen, and I don’t have it.”

The Tiger sighed and pulled out his wallet, pulling out his wallet. He fished a few bills out and handed them to the animal across the way. “My car needs cleaning. I’ll give you the keys to the garage this weekend.”

Jushin reluctantly took the money. “Thank you sir.”

Gon shook his head. “No need to thank me. This is an exchange of goods for a service. Can’t just be giving money away left and right. Do a good job and keep your head up. You’re dismissed.”

The student nodded and left.

“How do they handle discipline in the UNSC?” The Tiger had already turned his attention to his computer. Work never ended for the headmaster of Cherryton.

“100 pushups, three mile sprint, or a close quarters combat demonstration with a drill instructor.” Damon remembered his brother being tossed a few times during training thanks to his witty commentary. Even had his shoulder dislocated by an overzealous DI. That guy ended up having to answer to Tom-B292. Needless to say it didn’t end well.

Gon got a laugh from that. “The student body would certainly be a lot stronger if that was the way we handled things around here. Although, I don’t think tougher rulebreakers would really help the situation.” He clicked a few times on the Gamma students’ profiles. “I’m glad to see you’re already participating in an extracurricular activity. Gardening Club. Must be peaceful.”

Damon slightly narrowed his eyes. “Yes sir, I suppose it is.” How much did he know about them?

The headmaster kept his eyes on his computer. A notification popped up. “I’m sorry Mr. Damon, but we’ll have to continue this conversation at a later time. You’re dismissed.”  
The Spartan got up, gathered his belongings, and went on his way. I need to talk to Tina this weekend.

-

Yafya woke up to a smoldering afternoon sun. For a moment he thought it had only been a few hours. Upon checking the date however, he found that he’d been asleep for more than a day. Guess I have been pushing pretty hard this past week. 

He walked out of his bedroom into his garden area and a strong smell of iron wafted into his nose. His carrots had been recently maintained. Looking toward the hallway elevator, he saw Tina in only her bodysuit. Her hands were behind her back and she was admiring an eagle statue.

She listened to the clopping of the horse’s footsteps. “You’re finally awake.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Yafya’s question was even toned.

“You needed the rest.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off the eagle, like she was making sure it didn’t move. “Don’t worry. James was out there.”

The stallion had yet to really interact with the heavy. He was wondering where he’d been. “How was his patrol?”

“He’s not patrolling.” Tina finally turned to him. “Follow me.”

The Commander gave Yafya a full briefing on James’ findings in the underground room. He was unphased by the brutal photographs. Decades of dealing with the Black Market had left him desensitized to such matters. “So he’ll handle kidnappings and we’ll be taking care of gang activities… makes things simpler. Speaking of the gangs, any updates?”

Tina was looking through the underground monitor. “Not a peep. Unlawful ventures have gone dark. The Shishigumi haven’t left their mansion to collect tributes, Dokugumi are consolidating their people in their corner of the market, a few Inarigumi are searching for their lost girls, and nobody even saw a panther yesterday.”

Yafya smiled upon hearing how shaken the groups were. “I’m glad to hear it.” The horse’s stomach rumbled and betrayed his hunger. A day without eating will do that. He turned it into an opportunity. “Mind joining me for dinner?”

“Sounds like you need it more than I do. Why not?” She turned the monitor off and followed her ally to the elevator.

On the way up Tina leaned against the metal wall and closed her eyes. Yafya couldn’t help but stare at her caramel hair and sun-kissed skin. Humans were definitely a beautiful species if the one behind him was simply selected at random.

After preparing a full meal, Yafya took his seat across from the Spartan. She was already a halfway through a new bottle of red wine. He placed a plate of rice cakes and carrots before her.

“Thank you.” Her black hand moved to her fork without the hesitation of waiting for him to sit. She was decisive, always committing to something fully even if it was wrong. A truly natural leader.

“You’re welcome.” The horse began eating after pouring himself a glass of water. He was dehydrated after sleeping for so long. After a long drink he looked up to Tina and caught her eyes.

The commander swallowed a mouthful of carrots and furrowed her brows with a smile. The stallion swore he could see a blush. Must be the wine. “What is it?”

“I just realized that you must know everything about me, yet, I know next to nothing about you.”

“How much do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Too eager. “Whatever you can.”  
The Spartan took her glass and downed it like she had when they first met. She licked her lips to make sure none of the garnet colored alcohol went to waste. “I am Tina-B306, the B stands for Bravo Company. I was born on the planet Jericho VII. My family ran a farm near a beautiful green ocean. If it’s quiet, I can sometimes hear the waves coming to shore.” She closed her eyes to listen but couldn’t hear the water. “The animals we had aren’t like the ones here. They’re pure instinct and don’t possess self-awareness. They just live.”

Yafya thought about how simple those beasts must be. How that might shape one’s view of their society.

“We trained racing horses for shows at the larger spaceports. A few months before the Covenant arrived, my father brought one of the yearlings to me. He named him DeMarco. He said ‘they’re only as nervous as you are. Have faith in him and he’ll have faith in you.’ I spent all the time I could with him.” Tina's smile widened as she drew parallels between the foal and the Beastar before her. “One night, I snuck out and opened the gate to let him out. Using some rope, I made a lead and walked into the countryside. With him I wasn’t scared of the night and he wasn’t either. I walked for who knows how long before I actually turned around. That’s when the heavens parted and a strange, purple shape came floating down. It was a few kilometers long. I was little and had no idea I was looking at a Covenant Heavy Cruiser. They were deploying troops on my home’s beach. A roaming Marine squad saw the whole thing, scooped me up, and took me to the nearest evacuating ship.”

She wandered her hand to the bottle and skipped the glass this time, choosing to wrap her lips around the circular opening. “Of course, I never saw my parents or Demarco again. I put myself to sleep at night trying to believe that he ran off to somewhere safe, but I wake up knowing he’s probably a black smudge in a field of glass that goes on for as far as the eye can see.”

Yafya… didn’t know how to respond to that. Tina’s smile had never left her face. She stood with the wine in hand and walked over to him. The figure of the soldier was intimidating to say the least. At two meters tall, she towered over him normally. While he was sitting and vulnerable, his instincts screamed to stand and match the approaching creature. Her dark fingers reached down into his mane. The strands parted around every digit in her stroke.

“Thanks for the meal.” Tina turned, made her way to the elevator, and left the horse alone with his thoughts.


	8. AMOEBA!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup peeps, back at it again. I swear I'm going to find a schedule... eventually. Anyways, hope you like the chapter. Feel free to leave comments/criticisms. Shadow is a baller editor.

The Gamma students disembarked the black car. The weekend had come and the three decided to head to the police station. They already knew about James. They were up to date on all of the ongoing operations. They were still under UNSC jurisdiction and their commanding officer was Tina, whom they saluted as they exited the elevator. Their statures were rigid and crisp. Proper and professional.

Tina had a passive smile on her face and a tacpad in her hand. “At ease Spartans.” The trio put their arms behind their backs and relaxed their stances. “I see your classes have been going well, teachers’ comments have all been positive, and you’ve made some friends as well.”

Nomad stepped forward, cutting the commander short. “Ma’am, when are we going to be allowed downrange again? You need more assistance in that black market than just that old horse.” _It’s time to end this highschool illusion._

_“Old horse huh?”_ The Beastar’s voice rang from the tacpad.

Nomad stepped back in line. _Fuck._

Tina let Yafya continue through the speaker. _“It’s a fair assessment. I am getting on in my years. You three could do my job, and do it more efficiently, but you lack the public support. The people fear what they don’t understand. It is imperative that you continue to build your relations and create a helpful reputation. Damon has already taken those first steps with his actions.”_

The medic stayed silent.

_“I understand you all are far more mature than your age. Hell, you’re more mature than many of the ‘adults’ that roam the streets of this city, but the people don’t know that. Due to your academic prowess you will be allowed to fastrack into your second year by the end of this semester. You’ll be done with highschool by the end of next year, just be patient.”_

That last part did not sit well with the Gamma students. They had been molded into creatures of action, waiting another year did not appeal to the trio.

_“A time will come where you will be called upon to help shape a better world. That I promise you.”_

They all stayed silent and straight faced.

Tina stepped in. “You will remain assigned to Cherryton Academy for the time being. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am!” The three uttered in unison. There would be no more questions.

-

A few hours passed and the trio settled into the barracks to study or work on their own projects. Tina had left at some point to converse with Yafya some more. There had been a cold wave and the subterranean base was getting chilly. With jackets and joggers, all three had their SPI helmets on, blaring music into their own little sound rooms. Damon pondered to an odd collection of jazz, classical, and instrumental alternative rock. Nomad nodded along to punk, rap, and hip hop. Ana destroyed businesses on her tacpad to the noise of death metal and folk country.

The shit-starting Spartan pulled his helmet off as he got a devilish idea. Slowly, Nomad brought out his pistol from underneath his pillow and dismantled it. He pulled the barrel and determined its diameter. He then pulled out a piece of paper and bit off a decent sized section. Swishing the frail sheet with his saliva, he formed it into a ball and loaded it into the barrel. Carefully aiming at his visor, he launched the spitball at Damon. The disgusting orb landed right on target, squishing across the medic’s HUD.

Damon ripped his helmet off and jumped to his feet. “You fucking revolting bastard!” Nomad was already halfway to the elevator and the doors were open.

“If I’m a bastard you are too!” The chase was short but exciting. Nomad crossed the threshold of safety, slapping a button on the way in. He flipped off his brother as the steel doors slid closed, laughing all the way. Damon banged on them once, having been too late to punish the instigator.

The rebel pushed another button for the first floor, he’d have to kill some time for his sibling to cool off. Pulling out his phone he texted his commander.

G213: _I’m Oscar Mike._

B306: _Copy that. Be back before sundown._

G213: _Affirmative._

He wondered what there could be to do in a city like this. There was some yen burning a whole in his pocket and he was thinking of picking up a new hobby. Before exiting the elevator he put on a blue surgical mask that he’d “borrowed” from Damon. He also put up his hood, slid on some sunglasses, and slipped his hands in his pockets. _Great. Now I just look like a sketchy large carnivore instead of a sketchy alien._

As he left the PD’s main lobby, Nomad scanned up and down the busy street. It was overcast and the wind had picked up. He spotted an immense sign above a corner lot. _RICHARD’S SPORTING GOODS._

_Perfect. Just the place to blow this cash. Maybe I can get myself a new glove!_

Nomad sauntered down the street. Most other animals were wrapped up like he was, so he didn’t stick out too much. He also made sure to hunch his back a little, not wanting to properly define his figure. His hood casted a decent shadow over his face.

The young soldier entered the store with wonder in his eyes. All sorts of accessories for a variety of activities laid before him. He was drawn to the televisions that broadcasted highlights of major league athletes from around the world. His imagination put him in their shoes, making the game winning play or setting a new record.

“That’s a pretty shotty disguise.”

Nomad’s head snapped to the source of the callout. It was his disheveled sheepdog friend, Collot. This was the first time they saw each other out of uniform. The dog wore a bleach stained black shirt that read _GNASHER_ in flaming letters and a white beanie. In his right hand he held a wooden surface with wheels on it. “Legosi is the only one I know that can pull off the shadowy bystander look.”

The Spartan straightened up and pulled off his mask. “Sorry, didn’t want to freak anybody out.”

“It’s okay.” Collot cocked his head and it took a second for the human to figure out why.

“It's Nomad.” He said with a smirk.

The dog snapped his finger and pointed with his free hand. “See I was thinking you two smelled different. It’s just that you’re always with each other and your scents blend. Now I can tell you apart.”

“Alright.” Nomad’s eyes wandered to the wooden board. "What’s that?”

“Oh this?” Collot extended the object in front of him as if he hadn’t realized he was holding it. “This is a skateboard. You run a little bit and hop onto it to coast around. You can also do tricks if you’ve got the skill. Of course, you can usually only use them at skate parks. Everywhere else pretty much bans them. I came in here to get a new set of back wheels. Broke the old ones off a while ago.”

_Sounds like something I might be into. This guy seems to know what he’s talking about._ “Cool. Mind showing me some? They look interesting.”

The sheepdog was taken back for a moment by the question. He didn’t think the human would be interested in such a pastime. “Uhhh, yeah. Sure. They’ve got ‘em over here.”

Collot introduced Nomad to a few basic types of boards. Skateboards, longboards, and cruisers were the few that he covered. The young soldier chose the skateboard because of its adaptability. It would be the easiest to do tricks on. When they finished attaching the wheels the dog looked over their work.

“Not bad. Want to take her out for a test ride? B-Street Plaza isn’t too far away.” Collot had a hopeful expression on his snout.

“You bet. I’ve got some time to kill.” Nomad grabbed his board by it’s shiny new trunk and followed his canine friend out.

After about twenty minutes of walking through the city, the monotony of tightly packed apartment buildings and shops was broken by an open recreational area. Across the street a titanic, disharmonic structure grabbed the area’s attention. On it’s side, a red neon light sign read **_B-STRIKE_ **.

The dog pointed it out as they entered the park. “That place over there is awesome. It’s full of activities for all different types of animals. My roommates and I go there all the time to burn some energy when we’re high strung. Next time we go you guys should come along.”

“Sure thing. Not sure if Ana would be up for it though.” Nomad had been around his female teammate for half of his life so far. _She’s not one for_ … _how would she put it? Frivolous activities? I can see it now. I’d ask her to come, and she would stare at me as if I had suggested we jump off a building._

“Oh, yeah.” His furred friend looked disheartened for a moment.

“She wouldn’t mind if we went without her. She’s always busy with something anyway.” Nomad laid his board down and stopped it from rolling with his foot. “So just stand on it?”

This pulled Collot’s attention to the situation before him. “Yeah, and just find your balance. From there you give a little push with whatever foot you're comfortable with. Then you lean back and forth to steer.” 

The soldier did as instructed. Standing on the wooden surface, he found that the supports give on whatever side he put the most weight on. He then pushed with his right foot and was off on the concrete straightaway. His starting push was powerful and he was at the other end quicker than the dog anticipated. Nomad jutted the back of his board to the side to make it parallel to the front. The wood scrapped as he slid sideways for half a second and came to an abrupt stop, then looked back to Collot for affirmation. 

“That’s good! Really good actually. It usually takes people a while just to find their center.” The canine followed on his board and slowed up beside the Spartan. “Since you got that down already, if you're confident, I’ll show you how to Ollie.”

Nomad jutted out his broad chest upon hearing the compliment. “Oh, I was born confident.”

Collot snorted a little at the display. “It’s one of the basic tricks, but it can still be a little tricky for beginners. It opens the door for other tricks so it’s kinda important. So you take your front leg and raise it until it’s halfway to your chest, and simultaneously push down with your back foot like your jumping. Once your board’s back deck lip hits the ground, bring your back leg up and level it out with your front. If you’ve done it right then the board should follow.” He got ready to do an example.

Nomad’s board was already flying about even with Collot’s stomach. The Spartan landed with grace and put out a foot to steady himself. “Like that?”

“Just like that! Man, you learn quick.” The sheepdog was bewildered by the flawless maneuver. It had taken him a couple hours a day for about a week to just properly land an Ollie. “From there you can do stuff like kickflips.” Collot, wanting to do a trick himself now, ran towards the edge of the nearby bowl. He laid down his board, hopped on, and sped towards the edge. The dog Ollied at the last moment and twirled his board with his feet in midair. He landed at the base of the bowl and coasted to the opposite edge. Now out of the bowl, Collot turned to Nomad. He felt like he kinda showed off there and didn’t want to put any pressure on his new apprentice. “We haven’t really gone over navigating bowls yet so you don’t have to do it.”

_Like hell I don’t. That looked awesome. This is what I’ve been waiting for._ “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” The Spartan did just as he saw and began to Ollie into the bowl. He started to move his feet to direct the front of his deck, but accidentally dragged the toe of his foot for too long. This caused the board to twirl AND flip at the same time. _Oh shit, I don’t got this._ Nomad inspected his situation. If he still wanted to land this, he would have to let the board complete both its flip and twirl and perfectly time it to land before he ate the concrete. He had faith that he’d put enough force for the move and waited for his window. He thought it wouldn’t come around fast enough, but his window opened up at the last second. His board landed straight, though a bit goofy, and he rode it out to the other side of the bowl. “I almost screwed the p-” _PHRASING NOMAD._ “I almost screwed up on that one.”

Collot eyes were wide at what he just witnessed, but nobody noticed because of his hair. “Coulda fooled me! That was a sick Shuveit Kickflip.”

Nomad couldn’t help but laugh at how cheery his compatriot was at his near-fall. “Sweet. Now I just need to do a regular kickflip.”

The two would continue to practice for another couple hours. A crowd of rouge youthful animals started to gather and watch the human. Some began taking photos and videos, while others started joining in on different parts of the bowl with their boards. One antelope sprinted before hitting a narrow side of the bowl. He wanted enough speed in order to get enough height on the other side. Upon launching up the vertical, he began rotating his entire body in the air. _180\. 360. 540!_ The Spartan counted in his head. The short horned herbivore almost made it to a 720, but came back down too fast and his board hit sideways. This caused him to wipeout and slide on his back for a few feet. He didn’t get up right away.

In a flash Nomad was down in the bowl. He pulled up beside the antelope and popped his board into his hand. Luckily, the guy was staying down more out of disappointment than actual injury. “You alright man?” The Spartan stuck out his board for the herbivore to grab a hold of. He would have offered a hand, but he didn’t want to risk squeezing too hard.

“Yeah dude, I’m good.” The antelope grabbed the trunk and Nomad pulled him to his feet. Now upright, he smiled at the Spartan. “Thanks bro. You're pretty cool for an alien.”

Nomad shrugged at the strange compliment. “I aim to please.”

Not long after, the human and the dog departed the park. They agreed to meet up on their free weekends and exchanged phone numbers. The young soldier headed back to base with a new skip in his step.

-

_A few weeks later…_

-

Most of fall had gone by and a deep cold had settled into the city. This was made evident by the street lights that exposed Gohin’s condensed breath. The giant panda was driving an ambulance through the Black Market. His associate had refitted the boxy vehicle into what many would call an armored transport. Though not apparent from the outside, underneath the layer of white and red paint there was at minimum 20mm of steel plating, the windows had been replaced with armored glass that could stop most assault rifles, and there were small cameras connected to a miniature CCTV above the radio on the dash. The back was stripped of most of its cabinets and was replaced with padded walls and flooring. It made it a whole lot easier to transport crazed carnivores from farther away, and it was more comfortable for any other unfortunate souls that had to be back there.

_He never halfasses anything._ Gohin thought. _He’s taller, stronger, and still somehow faster than me… but that’s not what’s scary about him. No, what’s scary is that he sought me out. He knew everything about me before I got a single word out. It makes him seem omnipresent. He’ll always be a step ahead of whoever crosses him, so I might as well stand with him._

At some point Gohin had entered an area where the power had gone out. There wasn’t a single light to be seen for a block. This was always how it was when the warrior called him. _Guess he has control of the grid too._

_“Waiting.”_ James’ voice flatly stated.

The panda turned down a pitch black alleyway. A dark loading area became apparent to his night vision. This was the place. “Here.” He responded gruffly.

Gohin wheeled the ambulance around so that the rear was facing a ramp that led up to the loading dock. The store associated with it was obviously a front for a more sinister business. A business that James had become a master of exposing. The doctor grabbed the M45E Shotgun that had been riding at his side. The firearm was also something that had been courtesy of the alien. It was loaded with 8-gauge slugs, a shell that could rip off limbs just from the force. He exited and watched as a massive figure rolled up a metal loading door. 

An eyepiece given to him by the Spartan revealed an arrow above the approaching warrior’s figure. Despite Gohin’s presence, the soldier’s SAW sweeped the box like area beyond the ambulance. Behind him was a straight column of tiny, scared herbivores with their hands interlocked so as to not lose each other in the dark. There were 7 children in total. The leading animal, a mallard duck with an emerald green head, tucked part of his wing in the soldier’s thigh plating to follow along. Flanked on either side of the column were several stiff carnivore bodies that the kids couldn’t see, but could likely smell. Without a word, Gouhin opened the two armored doors of the transport. 

A single red flood light illuminated the small padded room inside. The Spartan had remotely preheated the back after seeing some of the lighter coated animals shiver. They had been stored in the basement of this structure for an unknown amount of time. James took the ducks wing from his plating and turned to him. “Okay little buddy, this panda is going to take care of you and your friends now.” James’ voice had shifted from curt and quick to warm and welcoming. 

Still, the mallard began to cry. The tears quickly rolled down his waterproof feathers. Some whimpers started coming from the other animals. “It’s okay. He’ll keep you safe from the bad guys like I did.” The Spartan’s reassurance helped to quell the dismay. “I need you all to be brave.” Moonlight caught James’ visor so that the duck could see him head on. “Can you be brave for me?”

The little boy wiped his eyes and looked back to the green giant. His new face held a scrappy expression and he nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good man.” James picked up the duck and set him in the back. Gohin did the same with the next animal and so on until they were all inside. The door was then shut behind them. Before addressing the panda, James turned his head as if he heard someone call his name. They would be here faster than expected. He swiftly looked back to his associate. “Enemy vehicles closing fast. I’ve uploaded a new route to your HUD. Get these kids out of here.” The Spartan’s regular demeanor had returned.

“Gotcha.” Gohin returned to the driver’s seat and started the engine. He knew that he needed to move quickly, but curiosity overtook him. “And what are you going to do?”

James pulled out a bulbous M9 frag and rolled it in his hand _._ “Provide a distraction.”

_4 minutes later._

Three cars pull up and stop in the alley way. Twelve silhouettes emerge from their transports. One stands above the rest, a huge German Shepherd in a black-on-black suit slams his door shut with a growl. Some vigilante hero-type has been messing with his livestock supply. That was going to end, tonight. One of his underlings had managed to send a call for help, saying the punk was still in the basement. The dog racked his pistol and approached the loading dock.

_These carnivores think they will keep each other alive._

The Shepherd motioned for a Rottweiler and Pitbull to take point. They had stocky SMGs with drum mags. One by one the dogs crossed into the storage room. Steel shelves stocked with goods in cardboard boxes were parted down the middle by a pathway that led to the basement.

_They stalk a wolf disguised as a rabbit._

The two point men cleared the spaces between each of the shelves, but found nothing.

_They watch each other’s backs, treading through darkness with their night vision, weapons drawn._

They finally arrived at the basement door and the Shepherd eagerly followed his men down.

_But it is too late. They have already forgotten the first rule of survival._

The Pitbull tripped over a little wire and face planted onto the concrete basement floor. A ping sound came from halfway up the steps. Right next to the Shepherd.

The leader looked down to see a ball with a smoking top. “What is th-” He is cut off by the fragmentation grenade’s explosion. The shrapnel sliced through the henchmen who were following.

_A true predator always watches where they step._

The caboose of the group, a German Maliwa, turned around to run. He stopped dead in his tracks when he slammed into an invisible wall, bouncing him back. Materializing from nowhere, a titanium goliath appeared before the dog. The animal freezed up for a moment, not knowing what to do. James brought his sledgehammer-like arm across his body before pummeling it into the side of the Maliwa’s head. The dog’s cranium folded into the steel shelf and stuck to it. His now lifeless body was left half standing on the pathway, half leaning into the shelf.

Other carnivores, still recovering from the concussive wave, eventually noticed James. They also noticed his SAW which began expelling a flood of Full Metal Jacket rounds. They could only watch the fire coming from the Spartan's barrel as the bullets tore through them, sometimes going through several animals due to the confined quarters. The onslaught ended when the final body hit the floor.

James’ boots squelched in the now growing pools of blood as he walked to the basement. He heard a groaning coming from the lower level. The leader and his Rottweiler were dead, no big surprise, but the Pitbull, whose carelessness had killed the rest of his colleagues, had inadvertently saved himself. 

The Spartan walked past the incapacitated dog. A full grown Osprey, with its beak taped shut, was in a cage. The bird had surrendered when he had first come through the livestock facility, so James had used him to his advantage. He had been the one who gave the Shepherd the false information on his location.

The Spartan ripped off the cage door and retrieved the cuffs he had put onto the bird’s wings. He only had one pair of cuffs. He only needed one pair of cuffs. 

James pulled the tape off of the prisoner’s beak. “I’m sorry! I’ll never step foot in the Black Market again!” James leveled his weapon at the hawk. “NO! WAIT!” A gunshot marked the end of the avian’s pleas.

Placing the binder on the only still breathing dog, James hefted the Pitbull onto his shoulder. It was time to return to base.


	9. The Man Who Sold the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another shorty, college actually makes you do things. Who would've thought? Anyway, hope you enjoy, comment/criticism good, Shadow epic editor, see yas next week.

Damon hovered his hand over the Gardening Club's rooftop door. _Should I really be going up here? How am I going to be able to reason my way through this? "Hi Haru, I'm here to look at my section of the greenhouse for the third time this week. I know nothing has changed, but I just like looking at them." It sounded stupid, not to mention it was a lie._

The young soldier was frustrated, mostly with himself. After the stunt he pulled with the black bear he'd been embraced by most of the school staff, but most of the other animals had started to passively shun him and the other Gamma students. The display of raw power instinctively didn't sit well with the herbivores, and the fact that it had been carnivores who were victims made them weary of being the next to be embarrassed.

Of course, the 701 crew didn't really care what most of the school thought. In the little time the Spartans had attended they had already made a great impression on the canines and hyena. The group had blended well, excluding Ana who was progressively becoming more and more absent during meals. He had tried to confront her on the subject, but she had insisted that it was only because of her work load. _I guess none of us lie well. She's at least a couple chapters ahead of Nomad and I. That I know for sure._

In reality, Damon didn't really care about what the other animals thought as well. All except for one, the hare in the Gardening Club.

She had been vexing him for the past month. When he originally returned a week after their introduction, she had told him that the club's duties had been taken care of and that there wasn't a reason for him to stay. Damon understood, leaving without a proper conversation. He came back the next week, but couldn't find her. After looking around and finding her shed with the glass door locked, he left once again. The curtains behind the door were closed, but he could have sworn he heard voices. An early frost had come in the first week of November and Damon resigned his attempts to approach the club directly.

At some point he'd finally come across her in the halls and asked if there was anything he could do until Spring. She then informed him that there was a green house, offering to clear a section for him to grow whatever he wished until Winter ended. Damon thanked her and went on his way. The Spartan wanted to kick himself for not inviting her to a meal. _I must look like an alien who's infatuated with plants._

It wasn't the way he wanted Haru to look at him, but she barely looked at him at all to begin with. The white rabbit had done nothing wrong besides be formal to him. It was the proper way a senior should treat their junior. There was nothing between them but the surface level courtesies that Damon despised.

To say he was overthinking this would have been a massive understatement. He shook his head and finally pushed down the cold handle to open the rooftop door. _Come on soldier. Once more unto the breach._

Upon walking through, he came face to face with the pointy tips of a red deer's horns. His sight turned downwards towards a startled animal. The creature was still in the process of readjusting his tie when Damon had barged through the opening.

Louis had to stifle the urge to turn tail right then and there. The being before him was massive and imposing without a single conscious effort to be so. It was strange, he had no claws, nor fangs, and yet Louis knew he had the potential to rip out his throat or tear him apart through sheer force alone. In that moment, the deer wondered just how many large carnivores it would take to bring him down. _Certainly far more than what the drama club could provide._

"Apologies, didn't mean to scare you." Damon kept the door open for Louis to pass through.

The horned senior gathered himself and narrowed his eyes at the foreigner. "You didn't." He set off on a brisk pace down the stairs.

 _Okay. Sure._ Damon tried not to laugh as he closed the door. By now he had figured out who Louis the Red deer was. A prospect for the next Beastar. It seemed like a laughable possibility to the Spartan. _You're going to need some augments if you plan on being half the beast Yafya is._

When he was sure the deer was gone, Damon made his way towards the rooftop's brick arch and pulled a clipboard off the wall. Nothing had really changed this week so he wasn't expecting to actually write anything.

A cool breeze blew and caught his hair. It was far longer than what UNSC regulation allowed, but Tina didn't seem to mind. Getting a haircut was usually something Gamma Company as a whole did together. That wasn't going to happen again. _Oh grow up. You're at a boarding school now. Of course you've got to start taking care of yourself._

Damon passed the president's shed when he noticed there was a slight crack in the door. He heard Haru inside, crying. Thinking she could be in trouble, the Spartan reached out and grabbed hold of the curtain and pulled it back along with the door. The girl was bare chested on a bed and Damon turned his head on reflex. He was expecting a room of gardening tools and supplies, not a tiny apartment. The hare quickly bunched up the blanket around her chest and sunk into the pillow behind her, having been startled by the soldier's sudden entrance.

"I'm sorry, but are you okay?" The dots finally connected in the medic's mind. "Did he do something to you?" He hadn't noticed his balling fist until his knuckles audibly popped.

Her mourning eyes quickly shifted to that of worry. "No! No, we just… had a disagreement. He didn't do anything. Intentionally that is." She said the last part as an aside, no longer looking at Damon.

"Okay." The Spartan forced his hand to relax before grabbing hold of the curtain again. The situation was obviously not something that he should be involved in. "I'll be leaving now."

Haru reached out, one hand still firmly securing her only covering. "No, wait. Just… wait outside, but don't leave."

"Understood." Damon shut the curtain and the door. He marched to the brick arch and took a seat, facing the door to the stairs.

 _What was… do they just… HOW?_ The same augmentation that decreases a Spartan's reaction time also increases their memory and creativity, compared to their normal human counterparts. Damon, in this moment, couldn't stop his ridiculously overactive imagination. It made him want to beat his own brains out thinking of them. Thinking of her. That snapshot. That moment in time that he would never be able to unsee. _SHE IS A RABBIT FOR GOD'S SAKE! WHY, DOES SHE LOOK LIKE THAT!?_

The glass door opened and Damon shoved those thoughts into the corner of his mind the best he could. He didn't turn around. He didn't really want to see her. The only sounds on the roof now was the wind and the soft padding of the bunny's feet. The medic had that tight feeling in his muscles again.

"I'm sorry." Her meek voice broke the tension. "Not just for you having to see me like that, but for how I've been treating you." She gave a shallow laugh. "You would have thought I would be happier about a new member after so long. Guess I believed you would just stop coming at some point."

Damon kept facing the door. "Our old teacher always said 'Spartans must be persistent.'" _Ambrose actually said "relentless."_

"Glad you took it to heart." Haru took a moment to search for a question. "Spartan, who came up with that name?"

Damon felt over his calloused palms. "Spartans are an ancient group of warriors, named after their home territory of Sparta. They existed long before the UNSC was even thought of."

"Really? How old are they?" The rabbit sat beside the soldier like they were close friends. She smiled like he hadn't just seen her au naturel. If she was embarrassed, she was doing a great job hiding it.

While he was still fighting his thoughts, Damon was happy that she was looking at him like he was a living being and not just a work bot. "More than two and a half millennia now. They were outstandingly efficient soldiers for their time. They had a strict training and selection process. They only accepted the children that earned a place among them."

"And the children that weren't accepted?" A relaxed ear flopped down as she tilted her head.

"They weren't allowed to become soldiers and were placed into a lower class of society. There was no room for failure." The medic thought about his comrades in Gamma Company. Not a single one had backed down or didn't make the cut. They all passed and were chomping at the bit to get into real combat. He wondered how many were still alive now.

Haru leaned in a little closer and squinted at the young man. "How old are you now?"

Damon was finally forced to break his line of sight, matching the bunny's gaze. "I'm fifte-"

"You're lying. You didn't look at me until I asked that question."

_Damnit._

"How old are you?" She asked with the same exact tone.

The Spartan reinforced his will and turned back to the rooftop exit. He was torn between making for the door and continuing to talk. "That's classified."

Haru's eyebrows started to crease. "Why?"

Damon sighed. "That's classified."

She wasn't happy with the answers she was receiving. "How old were you when you started?"

"Classified."

Instead of being discouraged by the lack of information, the girl's curiosity deepend. She changed her questions. "Did you have the choice to become one?"

He was getting close to done with this conversation. "Yes."

Haru perceived his lack of enthusiasm as hesitation. She believed she might be getting to him. "Why did you become a Spartan?"

"I became a Spartan because we were needed." He answered quickly and realized his mistake just as fast.

"We?" The senior was swift in digging through her junior's words. Just because she ignored her newest member didn't mean she wasn't informed about him. Word tends to spread fast, especially about aliens. "Your brother volunteered first, didn't he? You couldn't let him go alone, but you couldn't make him stay. You followed him." That information wasn't classified.

A wall of silence fell between them, all but confirming Haru's accusation. A frosted gust blew as she waited for a response, but Damon stood and walked over to the arch where he hung up his clipboard. He didn't feel like going into the greenhouse anymore.

The hare knew that she had overstepped by his reaction. "Damon, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to-"

"I'll see you next week." The Spartan's long stride had him off the roof before another word could be said, leaving Haru alone in the cold.


	10. A Reluctant Deference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halo people, Mark again with another shorty. Three essays, two exams, and one near miss concerning a family member this week. I'll keep this up weekly, but these little bits might become the norm. Anyways, comment/criticize, hope you all enjoy, later.

The small sliver of moon in the sky barely casted a shred of light through the crowding clouds. Ana was dressed in an all black outfit, reminiscent of an urban ninja. She checked her tacpad one last time. _0130\. Shouldn't be anyone up at this hour._

Ana slid up her dorm window and slung her lower body out. Securing herself with one hand, she used the other to slide the glass back down until there was only a minute opening. The small Spartan's dark figure was now dangling four stories above the Earth. With a stiff kick, she leapt off the window sill and spun until she faced away from the building. After her feet hit, Ana bent her knees until she was curled into a ball and rolled forward safely.

The young soldier quickly got to her feet and sprinted to the darkest side of the dorms. Ana followed the shadows until she reached the backside of the main building. She continued her pace right up to the base of the structure and ran up the wall. Catching a window sill, she scaled up to get footing on the slim ridge. From there, she crouched and performed a vertical jump of almost three meters, giving her more than enough room to catch the next ledge. Ana continued this process until she finally clambered over the slanted roof, placing her right next to the abandoned pool.

The girl took off her hood and revealed her snowy complexion. She scanned her surroundings. _Not a soul in sight._

Ana ambled over to a wooden shack. It was a little storage room for the pool maintenance equipment. She pulled off two loose boards and removed a smooth stainless steel tube. Taking up a small stool in her other hand, she marched into the empty pool and over to the deep end.

Ana had been getting used to her secretive arrangement. Ever since her demotion from the Dance Team, she began resting after classes and coming up here at night. It was nice. She put in her earbuds and started her regular heavy metal mix.

The Spartan placed her stool next to the faded sapphire wall and sat down. She rolled up the black elastic band of her pants from her ankle to her thigh. Taking up the steel tube, Ana placed it in the knuckle of her knee and started dragging the metal across her shin. It flared the nerves between her dense flesh and carbide covered bone, creating a symphony of pain that blended well with her music choice.

 _Sure, it's barbaric, but what else gets me here faster?_ Her usual connection with reality began to fade as her mutated cerebrum placed her more savage mentality in charge. It brought forth the warrior's ingrained rage and she could feel the power course through her very blood.

_I am superior._

_I am matchless._

_I. Am. Apex._

She gripped the steel tighter, pushed down harder, scraped the skin deeper. Her thoughts directed themselves to the Gamma student's first week of school. It was going relatively smoothly, even with that deer trying to incite action. It was after that first weekend when she was finally informed of her new position in the club.

* * *

Ana walked into Building 3 ready to get to work. She would be learning a new sequence today and wanted to master it by the end of the week. There would be nothing that would stop her from getting a spot on that stage.

Halfway to the changing room, Sheila spotted the pale girl and rushed over. "Hey Ana, we need to have a meeting in the office." There was a small somber quality to her current expression. It was obvious she knew something the other girl didn't.

"Roger that." Ana made her way to the side room.

When the door opened, Ana spotted Louis discussing something with a small Japanese Badger, a Peafowl, and a Pelican. _Acting, Sound, Production, and the President._ They were all standing closer to the window and turned to face the approaching Spartan. Legosi was also there, standing in the darker corner of the room. _Lighting._ Expecting Sheila to follow, Ana was surprised when the only thing that had her back was a closing door. _Well this should be good._

"Afternoon Ana." Louis' voice razored through the air. It sounded like there was a gleeful grin behind it, but his face was the definition of indifferent. "I suppose Sheila let you know on your way in?"

"She only let me know to come here." Ana tried to catch Legosi's eyes, but they were firmly planted on his own two feet.

Louis walked over to his desk, closer towards Legosi. "Well, as you know, events last week have left the student body somewhat shaken and confused about their… sentiments towards Spartans."

The Pelican, not liking how the message was being conveyed, stepped in. "What I think Louis was trying to say, was that we understand how… complicated this new arrangement is for everyone. We don't want to put any more unnecessary stress on you than what has already presented itself. The wellbeing of a student comes first and foremost. So, we think that it is in everyone's best interest that you take on a supporting role with the Production Team, if only for a little while."

 _Alright then._ Ana nodded slowly as if she were taking time to fully process what the president had just said. Her head then dipped ever so slightly towards the Pelican. "So you think that I'll snap and kill somebody because dance is too stressful?" Her venomous words brought on a whole new level of unease to the room. Even Legosi was now preparing himself to get involved.

"To put it bluntly, yes." Louis cut back in, helping to diffuse the situation.

 _I hate that fucker, but he doesn't beat around the bush._ Ana straightened herself back up. "Understood. I'll do whatever it takes to help prepare our future events. The good of the club comes first." _It's not your job to be successful. It's to be reliable and trustworthy._

The Pelican lightly touched his wings together nervously. "Good! Good." He turned to the Peafowl. "I'm sure that you already know by now, but this is Dom. He'll be your new Manager."

Ana turned to the aqua avian with her still looming intensity. "I look forward to working with you."

* * *

The memory infuriated the brooding Spartan. She slammed the rod down on her leg with a bit too much vigor. This made an obtuse bend in the steel, yet she didn't feel it. She did it again and again. Nothing. _I am the best. How dare they demote me? I should RIP THOSE FURRY BASTARDS APART LIMB FROM FUCKING LI-_

 _ **BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!**_ The alarm cut off Ana's music and blared its own intruding noise.

She had almost gone too far.

Ana pulled out her smoother, lined it up with her neck, and pushed the plunger. The pale girl took a deep breath as the shooting pain of her lower body finally registered. Taking a moment to look, she saw the flaming surface of her shin. There were parts in the irritated area where the pipe had broken the skin, and maroon had begun slowly seeping down into her sock. It was time for her to head back.

The young soldier put her pipe and stool back in their place. The boards were put back in and loosely secured to the shed. She needed to get some sleep. PT was in three hours.


	11. O Tolmón Niká Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Hope you've all been doing great this past week. Got a pretty awesome grade on my research essay so I'm pretty happy about that. In other news, I made an insta for my writing profile! If you want to follow or just browse the name is 2014 and I'll be posting updates, memes, and art that Shadow does. With that out of the way, I just wanted to thank everyone who has commented, followed, and even just read. You peeps are some real ones. Hope you all have a great next week and I'll see ya then.

**0500**

* * *

A tired looking group of canines lazily stretched near the start of the school's track while the Gamma Students finished their third mile. The wind was whipping hard through the campus. Cold air stung through the exposed fur of the 701 group's workout clothes. They were not happy animals to say the least.

Durham shot his pointy head in the little fennec's direction. "Voss, I just wanted to let you know that this is all your fault, and that I hate you."

"I heard you the last seven times since we got up. I'm sure it's not going to be that bad." The fox bent over to try and touch his toes. Didn't want to pull a hammy.

In the first week of November, the canines had challenged the twin brothers to a video game tournament, believing their familiarity with the gaming system would bring them victory. The winner of the tournament could request whatever they wanted from the other group within reason. The boys of 701 had collectively decided that they would make the brothers play fetch, dog style, using only their mouths to catch. Unfortunately, they hadn't accounted for the Spartan's supernatural adaptability and their talent for rising to the occasion. Voss choked the last round of the game and he had been consistently reminded of it since. Now they were being forced to do PT with the soldiers every Tuesday and Friday. It definitely did not seem fair, but the brothers argued that it was completely "within reason."

Miguno felt like voicing his displeasure as well. "I think I remember, and stop me if I'm wrong, me saying something like 'hey Voss, don't choose _Street Combat 7_. The soldier dudes, who practice MMA in their spare time, probably like fighting games.'"

Voss was fuming now. "Well what the fuck else were we going to play? All we have are first person shooters and fighting games! Unless you wanted to see who could bring in the most crops in Harvest Simulator. Maybe we could've beat them by boring them to death!"

Collot got a chuckle out of that and turned to Jack who held an offended expression.

The Golden Lab loved the simplistic farming experience. "Hey, Harvest Simulator is a great game! Not everything has to be violent you know."

Voss made a knife hand at the dog. "Jack, I watch you play that game in order to go to sleep early. Ten minutes and I'm out. It might just be the lamest game ever. Of all time."

Nomad came around to the straightaway with Damon. The more boisterous twin turned to the group as he ran past. "Less talking, more running!"

Legosi was the first to conclude his lackluster stretches and hit the pavement. He could by no means keep the unparalleled pace the Spartans set, but he was certainly the most in shape of the canines with Durham being a relatively close second. Jack and Miguno kept pretty much the same stride and stayed side by side like the twins. Collot was already huffing hard by the second lap. The sheepdog was probably the one who suffered the most out of the group, but refused to complain. Voss, due to him being vertically challenged, consistently maintained last place.

As the pale girl started passing the wolf for the third time, he couldn't help but notice she was looking him over everytime she rounded to the outside. It was like she was examining him for something. She was only two or three inches taller than him, but her adjudicating glare made her look like a storey-high titan. _What is she looking for?_ Legosi wondered.

The two had been working together for some time in Drama Club. Ana had been freelancing in the different departments of the Production Crew, going where she was needed. Legosi showed her the basics of lighting and how to adapt the beams to different parts of the script. She hadn't seemed interested at the time, but when a short break started for the acting team, she demanded to take control for the next scene. Surprised by the impassioned request, he let her at it. The girl followed his every instruction to the tee. It was the way she was now with everyone since her reassignment to Production. She seemed cold and almost passively condescending, but she listened intently to every instruction and comment. She took it to heart too.

" _She was pretty good I guess."_ The wolf's own dismissive words bounced around in his head like they had been for the last month. He had said that about her dancing her very first week at school. She was a stranger in a foreign world and she got put down by a senior of the club that was supposed to be welcoming to all. He hadn't even thought about how he'd come off until Jack mentioned it back in their dorms that night. _She probably thinks you're against her._

The very next week he was there to see Louis and all of the managers reassign her. He had sensed her intense irritation, followed by her powerful self-suppression. After that she dropped her mirthful facade and adopted a more resigned attitude towards mostly everyone. Outside of the club, she established a hardened aura that made her practically unapproachable. _Is that what I look like to other people?_

By the time Damon called the thirty minute marker, the Gamma students were already done with their 15 miles and were waiting for their animal peers to come back to the start. Upon arriving, the 701 crew bent over with their hands on their knees, trying to recover. Everyone had trails of steam that emanated from their bodies and rose into the chilly morning air.

Jack had tried to distract his brain from thinking how much his legs were hurting by doing calculations in his head. During the run, he had kept track of the soldiers' laps and arrived at an interesting discovery. "So you guys… run at… fifty… kilometers... an hour?" The golden dog's tongue dripped between pants.

"Yep, we're pretty fast." Nomad said with a smug undertone.

"I'd say." Durham cut in. "You guys are fast as cheetahs."

"I wouldn't say that. They can go like a hundred and twenty right?" Nomad looked to Damon for confirmation. His twin was almost bug-eyed at his remark. _Why is he… oh… ah man. They only run on two legs, fucking idiot._

Jack tilted his head, confused. The Spartans weren't usually so blatantly wrong. "No, maybe sixty-five at max."

"Yeah, sorry. Was thinking about something else." _Damn, I need to get good at lying._

Damon clapped his hands together loudly to grab everyone's attention. "Buddy run time! Stand next to who I pair you up with. Collot and Durham." The coyote and sheepdog followed the order and stood beside each other. "Jack and Miguno." The lab and hyena fist pumped as they closed their gap.. "Legosi and Ana." The girl made no motion towards the wolf, he would have to go to her.

"Hey! What about me?" Voss indignantly inquired. This got a few laughs from the group.

"Thanks for reminding me Voss. I made something just for you." Damon walked over to an olive green duffle bag that was resting on the bleachers and pulled out an oblong sack. The Spartan flung the sack over to the fennec and it rolled a little before stopping. It was a 15 kilogram sandbag with little strips of extra material for its "appendages."

"Sorry if your partner is not as 'lively' as the rest of us. You'll have to stand him up yourself."

The fox took this as a challenge. He huffed and struggled as the bag folded over, falling face first in the opposite direction. Voss cursed as he stood the bane up once more, careful to not let it crumple again.

When everyone was in position, the medic continued. "You're going to start by grabbing your partner's wrist with your same side hand and lifting it up." Damon displayed the step with his twin. Collot and Jack raised their tight grasps on Durham and Miguno confidently. Legosi however, tentatively lifted his light clamp on Ana.

"You're then going to put your free arm through their legs, swap the grip to the hand you have around their thigh, make sure your back is tight, and lift with your legs." Nomad's slumped body rose for everyone to see. "Make sure they're at the top of your back with their butt high in the air. Not like this." The medic dropped his brother down his back and Nomad's hips twisted, mashing his crotch against Damon's shoulder as he slid. "This is uncomfortable."

" _Bastard."_ Nomad huffed before Damon positioned him correctly again.

"Go ahead and try it yourselves." Collot had no problem raising Durham. Jack began slightly off balance and almost drove his hyena partener into the track, but he was able to get his feet under him in time. Legosi was still cautiously adjusting his clasp on Ana.

"Your grip is going to need to be stronger than that." Ana said as she readjusted his hand so that it fully wrapped around her wrist with a lot more pressure. Legosi lifted her up and realized just how rigid the Spartan felt as she pressed into his upper back. She was also a lot heavier than her frame suggested. It wasn't what he thought a female would feel like. Then again, this certainly wasn't a regular female.

"Everybody set?" Damon asked the group who returned the question with nods. "Good. Six laps, three a partner, switch every lap. Let's go!" Damon set off on a long stride run and the rest of the group followed at their own paces.

Legosi tried hard to keep his jog smooth so that he didn't jostle the girl on him. "What are you doing?" Ana asked with a bit of ire in her voice. The wolf wondered what he did wrong this time. "You changed your step. Run how you would in a combat situation. Run like you're being chased." Legosi couldn't really relate to either of those hypotheticals, but he followed her command anyway and ran as he normally would.

Upon finishing his first lap, the wolf set his partner down. She hardly gave him a moment to breathe before he was up in the air. Legosi let his faintly fatigued brain wander as he was allowed this undulating rest. It was rare to find someone at school as big and tall as him, save a few students in the ursine family, but none could move the way Ana could. The girl always carried herself with grace and a brewing swiftness, able to take off anytime at full power. Here, at the track, she actually showed it. Bounding with pride in every footfall, it wasn't long before he found himself being let down for his turn again.

When it was all said and done, the spent 701 crew splayed themselves over the bleachers as they heaved the cold air into their lungs. The Gamma students naturally didn't look any worse for wear.

Voss dusted off his back the best he could. A little sand had seeped through the bag during the run. He turned to the nearest twin to him. "How the hell are you not smoked after that?"

Nomad's familiar smugness crossed his face. "Don't know. Guess we're just built different."

Damon noted that it was now six. The soldier understood that all the canines shared a single bathroom, so he wanted to give them ample time to get ready for the day. He clapped his hands together again. "Alright, good work today everyone. You're going to start getting sore tonight and it's going to be even worse tomorrow. Remember to stretch in your down time and get as much protein as you can get your hands on. I'll let you guys go and we'll do this again on Friday. See you guys at breakfast."

The medic grabbed Voss' sandbag, placing it in his duffle before heading off to the dorms with his brother. When they could move again, most of the 701 crew followed, except for Jack who had started off before he realized Legosi wasn't behind him. The wolf was laying on the bleachers watching Ana as she walked over to her water bottle and took a few sips before warming up her arms.

Legosi's curiosity got the better of him. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm about to start shadow sparring." The soldier realized he might not know what she's talking about. "I don't have a partner, so I perform my moves on air. It's not the same as the real deal, but it keeps the muscles ready." An idea popped into the Spartan's mind, and a slight smirk appeared. "If you could help me I could show you a thing or two."

His lips moved before his mind did. "Sure. I'll help."


	12. Friends in Low Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark update, hope everyone has had a happy Halloween! Might miss next weeks update because of a research paper I need to do. Wish you all the best, hope you enjoy.

The Pitbull awoke to the heavy plodding of metal on concrete. He was sitting in a chair. Well, more like strapped to it. The steps reverberated through the inky blackness as they grew louder. They seemed to be all around him at once. His night vision did nothing in the total dark that enveloped whatever room he was currently in. The dog took a sniff to see if he could smell anything familiar. He did, and it made the situation far worse.

The scents he could derive were blood, gunpowder, and his boss, Troy. They were strong, overwhelmingly strong, like the Shepherd had just shot someone before him. The Pit’s mind retraced his steps leading up to where he is now. They were responding to a call they received from one of their businesses being broke into. They found the place was wide open, guards were dead, he went down the steps into the basement, and… and then he tripped. Now he was here. Wherever here was.

“H-hello?” He called out. The steps stopped and a barrage of light assaulted his sensitive eyes. The dog fought to pry his lids down to see anything. A silhouette of his bosses’ head fur and ears was the first thing he could make out, except, there was no body to match. There was only a pole that supported the cranium of his late leader’s likeness; the Shepherd’s maw lay agape to expose the metal that ran into the skull. The more the Pit’s eyes adjusted the more he could see just how mangled the carnivore was. Most of the hide had been ripped off the left side of his face and shrapnel had dug trenches into his teeth and bones. His left eye consisted of only its empty socket while the right bulged out, looking directly at him. This had once been the fearless head of their troop. An untouchable walking superpower in the flesh, reduced to an ornament.

The dog frantically struggled against the steadfast restraints. The straps cut into his wrist as he continued to squirm. He wante- no,  _ needed _ out of this hellhole.

The standing lights in front of him dimmed, and the plodding started again. Now he could see its source. A colossal creature of olive metal. It passed in front of the lights and pulled the canine’s head off its pike. It pulled out the remaining eyeball, ripping the orb from the optical nerve, and let the Shepherd clunk on the floor. The Pit’s mouth went slack-jawed in horror and was quickly punished for it. The being forced its titanium hand into the living dog’s mouth and grabbed hold of his lower jaw, crushing some of his teeth. Steadily, the eyeball hovered over to the ajar lips.

“Do you like meat?” The creature asked in an even tone.

The Pit’s eyes, bewildered with terror and pain, snapped to its reflective visor. He rapidly shook his head, which resulted in him shaking his body due to his face being locked in place.

“Will you ever eat meat again?” It questioned again.

The dog shook again.

“Good.” The Spartan dropped the eyeball which hit the floor with a plop. “Now hold still.” James proceeded to raise a pair of pliers to the Pit’s teeth. The dog lasted through the removal of four fangs before passing out.

* * *

10 minutes later

* * *

James scrolled through his contact list on his HUD. He hovered over a character named “V” before selecting it. There were two rings before someone answered.

“It is good day when you call, friend. What do you have for me tonight?” The voice was scratchy with a thick accent, reminiscent of the Eastern Europeans long ago.

“Kota’s Trinkets. 3 machines, 15 paws, a feather, and some tools. You take the appliances and the bobbles. Pack up the tools and leave them at my shop.”

“Are you sure? I know of a carpenter who has been in the market for some new hardware. He pays very well, and I charge very low commissions for friends.”

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, but it is never too early to start saving. Perhaps for college or retirement?”

“Neither. I’m a worker through and through.”

“Of course. No rest for the weary. The tools will be in the shop by sunrise. I wait for your next call my friend.” The line went dead.

* * *

An Andean Condor stepped out from the driver side of his cube truck. The transport blocked the alleyway from prying eyes on the street. The backdoors of the truck swung open. Three Dingos, a Spotted Hyena, and a Racoon dropped down, all carrying canvas bags. The team passed the three abandoned cars on their way to the loading dock.

The whispery Racoon felt over the vehicles, seeing every curve with its paws. “Pretty nice rides here V. Gonna turn a nice profit.”

“Of course we are. We would not be here if not for the promise of gain.” The Hyena snickered in glee.

As they entered the storage room, they found the scene of the conflict.

“A massacre.” One of the Dingos pointed out.

The Hyena’s finger traced the steel bar that formed around the Maliwa’s skull. “A massacre indeed. Your friend is adept in the art of violence, V.”

The Condor nodded in agreement. “So he is. Let us accept the opportunity he has given us and get to work.”

The animals dropped their bags and began unpacking their contents. Plastic wrap, collapsable mops, gray spackle kits, and jugs of bleach were the items of primary importance. The Racoon collected the guns, knives, jewelry, and wallets of the dead.

“He wants the guns again.” V told the Racoon. He sparked up a cigarette as he supervised his workers. The lighter’s flame exposed the deep wrinkled lines in his face. 

The scavenger looked dejected as he palmed the submachine guns. “Aw come on Boss, the serial numbers are already scrubbed. We could turn around and sell these in no time. Maybe even to one of the gumis.”

V shook his head. “Not our choice to make. Plus, business has not been good with them lately. We would not get a good deal.”

The Hyena managed to pry the Maliwa’s skull from the shelf, before letting the body fall to the floor. “Does your friend have something to do with it? He certainly seems to have the means for change.”

“Perhaps, but he is not the talkative sort.” The Condor took a long drag before holding the smoke. A plethora of theories and speculations crossed his mind before he deeply exhaled, letting his ideas go with the wind. “He’s a worker through and through.”

The Dingos wrapped the looted bodies up in the plastic and carried them out to the truck. The Hyena disguised the bullet holes and moped up the blood. When it was all done they packed up their equipment about an hour before sunrise. The shopkeeper would return to a clean storage area and an empty basement. If he returned at all that is.

The Dingos hopped into the cars and followed V out of the alleyway. Next stop was the shop.

* * *

The Pit woke up once more feeling lightheaded with a dull pain in his jaw. His mouth was filled with gauze packing. He put a finger to his cheek and noted the automatic give where there was once a hard surface. He switched to the other cheek and did the same. All of his teeth were gone. Noticing he was shirtless, the Pit saw that his fur had been shaved down considerably and there was bandaging on his chest. Peeling the gauze and cloth back, he saw his fur had been burnt through and his skin was bubbled up from a burn. He had been branded.

“Pretty rude awakening, huh pup?” A burly Panda with a clipboard sat in a chair near the foot of his bed. “Every choice we make has a consequence, you just weren’t expecting this one probably.”

Why was he here? Where was his group? What had happened to them? The Pit looked around to see if there might be anyone else here he knew, but the room was a small concrete box just big enough for his bed and a couple chairs. It wasn’t much different from the first room he’d woken up in, besides the medical device he was connected to.

The ursa gave a laugh at the twitching of the dog’s desperate eyes. “There’s nobody else here pup. None that you would know anyway. Your gumi is more than likely dead and nobody knows you’re here besides me and your new boss. You’re just here to recover from your treatment, can’t have you break your promise right?”

_ “Will you ever eat meat again?”  _ The trapped question sent a chill down the Pit’s spine. There was no way he would have said yes. That thing would have killed him! That… Spartan.

Before actually seeing him with his own eyes, the Pit had heard of the beings known as Spartans. They had made headline news a month ago after their arrival on the planet. They’d immediately taken a deal with the Black Devil and made their homes in the shadows of the Black Market. The giants couldn’t be seen, but they could certainly be felt. An onslaught of arrests and operations against the four major organizations seemed to go on day and night without rest.

Within the first week the gumis had reclused into their corners of the market, leaving a power vacuum in some of the unmonitored territories. That’s where the Kibagumi had stepped in, an all dog group dealing specifically in livestock. Their numbers exploded almost instantly and they began roaming the streets in droves. The Kibigumi grew with little organization, it was more of an idea than an actual gang. They’d even fought viciously against other packs for territory, with the losers falling in line under the winning pack.

For all their growth, their operations collapsed in on themselves over the weeks to come. Every other night a different pack would disappear into thin air, no bodies or tracks to speak of. Now the Pit knew why. What he didn’t know was what exactly had been done to him.  _ What does he mean by my treatment? _

The Panda sheathed his pen into his board and stood. “Well I’ll leave you to rest for tonight. You’re going to need it.” He opened the door and motioned to leave. “Oh, one last thing, I would advise against running. For your sake.” Finally leaving, the lights switched off and the Pit was left with only his thoughts.

* * *

Gohin walked into his main office and was greeted by the helmetless green giant. He sat in one of the therapy chairs, staring at a tacpad on the table. The titan’s curly auburn hair casted a shadow over his eyes because of the overhead light. He seemed to be enjoying a cup of bamboo tea, or at least tolerating it. It was hard for the Panda to get a good read on the Spartan, even with his helmet off.

“Synopsis?” The rough soldier rumbled.

Gohin sat down across from James. “Good. Didn’t even seem meat deprived, or hungry for that matter. That shouldn’t even be possible after thirty-six hours. If these implants are the real deal, we’re looking at some real world changing stuff.” He smiled as he picked up his own tea. “Hell, they might put you up for a peace prize.”

James placed his cup next to the tacpad before turning it off. He leaned back a little. “It still needs more trials.”

Gohin’s smile waned and he nodded. “Of course.” Silence ruled the conversation for a while. There seemed to be a common theme when talking to the Spartan. If it's not about an objective, it doesn’t need to be talked about. As a therapist, it was only natural that Gohin wanted to test that idiosyncrasy.

The Panda relaxed into his seat. “So, James, what do you think of the city?”

The Spartan turned his head up to look at Gohin. His eyes were still hidden, but some light freckles became visible on his cheeks. He looked younger than the Panda had initially thought. “It’s like any other city. There are the people with power and there are the people without it.”

That was something at least, he had his foot in the door now. “What do you think about the people in power now? Are they good or bad to you?”

James looked back down to his tea. “There are no good people. There are people who follow their ambitions and those who do not.”

_ That’s certainly an interesting mindset.  _ “So you don’t see our work as good?”

James looked to Gohin with steely green eyes. “Work is work. You do it to achieve a goal. The repercussions of work can be anything. I killed sixteen people the day before yesterday, and another 51 in the last month. Would you say that I am good?”

“I’d say that there are certainly worse people.”

“That does not answer my question.”

_ Damn son, give yourself some credit. Your flipping this place on its head and doing far more than I could have ever hoped.  _ “You’re better than you think you are. You’ve got a stronger conviction than anyone I’ve ever seen before, and your actions show it.” Gohin took a sip of his tea. “The average person is either unable or unwilling to do what is right. That is why we’re here, to do what others cannot.”


	13. Ships That Don't Come In

Tina sat in front of a monitor in the Police Department’s Sublevel 1. She clicked on a file labeled  _ Fumirole.  _ An overview appeared that gave a brief summary of the colony world and its history. She immediately went to the operational history on the planet. Filing down the search to Spartan activity, she found what she was looking for, Operation: GERONIMO. Clicking on the name Kat B-320, helmet camera footage began to play and Tina put a pair of earbuds in to listen to the orchestra of war she was familiar with. 

The clip started with the sound of raspy breath and a finger typing in a countdown to a handheld Fury tactical nuclear device. A timer in the top right hand corner read five minutes.  _ That’s a tight timeline, even for you Kat.  _ The camera turned back to the battlecruiser,  _ Sanctity of Purification,  _ that loomed over the city. The female Spartan charged the Covenant line that attempted to stop her and the platoon of marines attacking the cruiser’s gravity lift. The rest of Noble Team helped clear her way of any enemy resistance. It was too much for the defenders and the alien’s lines began to crack.  _ Best of the best.  _ Just as it looked like Kat was on the home stretch to the lift, a green ball containing a Class-3 fuel rod landed a mere meter in front of her. It erupted in a radiant display of radioactive energy that splashed over the now flying camera, cracking it. Kat’s health monitor went critical as she hit the ground, hard. Precious seconds ticked away on the nuke with Kat unable to do anything.

Tina leaned into the screen, wishing she was there to pick up her fallen comrade. All she could do now was whisper. “Get up Kat. Get up dammit.”

As the timer passed the two minute mark, the camera sluggishly panned over to a nearby IFF tag labeled: Thom A-293. The copper faceplate of the Alpha Company Spartan stopped for a moment as he analyzed his teammate. He reached down and came up with the nuke in hand. Thom turned and deployed the thrusters of his portable jump-jet as he took off for the gravity lift. Just as he disappeared, the etched face of Wrath, Emile A-239, shouldered Kat and began the retreat from the doomed ship. The injured Spartan tried desperately to look towards the cruiser, just barely catching a glimpse of it. Its shields surrounding the neck bubbled and failed as the nanolaminate hull warped out and erupted into flames. The  _ Sanctity  _ was no more, and neither was Thom. The camera turned back down to the grey rubble, and the video ended. The screen turned black except for a small symbol in the center. It was the corner of a pyramid, one half dark, one half white, and a small circle in the middle.

Tina stared at her darkened reflection in the monitor. She hadn’t been on Reach when it fell. She wasn’t there to help support a fireteam, or assist in the evacuation of the civilian population. No, she was dealing with ONI’s pitiful internal affairs. Sections of the intelligence office were always in a constant vie for power and funding.

She closed her eyes as she thought of her old, frustrating job. It was Tina’s duty to make sure that none of these sections went too far in their personal endeavours. Though, it was rather hard to do when she only had Clearance Level 2 abilities. The most important actions, and the ones she never had the ability to look into, were Classified Clearance Level 1. She now found it funny that the Gamma Spartans, whose mere existence was Classified Clearance Level 0, now practically frolicked around in the public eye without worry.  _ I would have definitely been court martialed by now.  _

As she pulled out her earbuds, a voice spoke up behind her. “So that’s what they look like.” It was the Sublime Beastar. “I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.”

“They are a lot worse up close. You can expect that much.” Tina didn’t turn to meet his eyes just yet.

Yafya was silent for a moment. He thought of the human soldiers he’d seen in the clip. The Spartans seemed few and far between on the battlefield. “Were they friends of yours?”

“Family, but outside of Kat I didn’t know them personally. She was the only member of my team that survived our first operation. After that, she was pulled for reassignment, and I fell into a new team. She was the brightest of us all. I never understood why they didn’t pull her to begin with.” Tina stared at the screen for a few more seconds before finally turning the monitor off.

Yafya had noted the Spartan’s use of ‘was.’  _ If things were as bad as she said, they were probably all dead.  _ The horse had lost a teammate before, but he wasn’t dead.  _ No, he quit because he was selfish. These soldiers are different, they’ll fight to the bitter end to get the job done. They’ll die long before they give up. _

Tina finally stood and turned towards the Beastar. “Do you attend police funerals?”

The question caught him off guard, but he wasn’t going to lie. “No. No I don’t.”

“I’m going to one today for a Bull, a Sergeant Hoover. Hoover was chasing a perp downtown when he shoved a civilian into traffic. The Sergeant diverted and managed to save the person, but gave his life in the process.” Tina looked over to her bed where a white UNSC dress uniform lay. In her spare time she had commissioned one for public occasions. Of course, she didn’t commission her medals, that would just be pretentious. “You can come if you wish. It would do the people good to see you there.”

Yafya hesitated for a moment. Introducing Tina had been the most he’d exposed himself to the public eye in years, and he’d gained a lot more attention from his enemies as a result.  _ Things get worse before they get better,  _ he told himself. He finally nodded in agreement with the Spartan. “I’ll make myself ready.”

-

The Beastar’s blacked out trio of vehicles fell in with the numerous police escorts on their way to the cemetery. Yafya figured that Hoover must have been a very well respected policeman when he looked at the funeral’s turnout. Hundreds, probably thousands of citizens lined the streets in order to observe the passing motorcade. The horse suppressed envisioning his own funeral. A dark part of his mind wanted to point out just how few people there were in his life that were truly close to him.

Yafya let his vision wander over to Tina. She was peering out of her side’s tinted window, taking in the crowds of woeful animals. Her black undersuit contrasted starkly with her outfit. He had still yet to see her take off the titanium skin. The hard, bumpy texture made her appear reptilian in nature. On the face of her white cover there was a golden feral eagle holding up a shield with two anchors crossing in the background. A similar looking eagle was on the left side of her chest, this time holding a trio of arrows in one claw and a bolt of lighting in the other.

The Beastar himself was wearing a black suit and tie. He held a letter of condolence in his hand, hoping his arrival wouldn’t disrupt the procession. The car began passing black iron fencing that led to a concrete entrance. The line of cars stopped just after they cleared the gates.

The two exited their vehicle and began walking to the burial site. The world seemed gray without a single ray of sun breaking through the clouds. The wind was still and the people silent. Tina’s uniform and stature made her look like a walking marble column. People would see her then see Yafya. Some looked shocked, others confused, but most of the family were indifferent. 

When they finally arrived, and the family was settled, the funeral commander began with a summary of the Sergeant’s 14 years of service. The procession continued with a religious leader reading some text in a language Tina had yet to familiarize herself with. After that, the abnormal looking mayor Lion spoke, commending the Bull for his selflessness and performance above the call of duty. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but Tina sensed that something about the feline was… off. The Spartan dismissed it as paranoia.

As soon as the mayor was finished, Yafya began walking. Instead of heading to the front to speak, the Beastar directly approached the wife of the fallen and delivered his letter. “If you need anything, let the department know and I will see to it personally.” He then scanned the grieving family with a steeled expression before returning to his position beside Tina. 

It was hard to tell exactly what was going through the cow’s mind. She grasped onto the paper for dear life, like she was still holding the hand of her lost officer. This started making Tina feel guilty for why she was here in the first place. The Spartan had seen hundreds of her brothers and sisters die, many in a single day, yet not a single one of them had received a proper burial.  _ Not like there was much left to bury.  _ She had come today, not to grieve for the Sergeant, but to envision a funeral for Beta Company.

The gunfire from the three-volley salute brought the soldier back into reality. Tina’s arm jerked hard as her hand hovered over her magnum. Her fingers twitched for a couple seconds as she resisted the urge to unholster the weapon. She flattened out her hand, regaining her composure, but Yafya had already seen the reaction.

A Goat officer with a Corporal’s stripes on his arm took to the front with his radio. Tears ran as he held down a button to transmit.  “F-Fuji 233…” The Corporal’s voice shivered as he called. “Calling Fuji 233…” There was still no response, only static. “This is the last call for radio number Fuji 233.” The Goat took a moment to reinforce his will before continuing. “No response from Sargeant Hoover. Fuji 233 is out of service after 14 years and 6 months of police service. Although you are gone, you will never be forgotten. Rest in peace, our friend. The time is 10 o’clock.”

The Goat clipped his radio back on and wiped his eyes as he went back in line. The honor guard eventually lowered the casket into the earth and each family member threw a handful of dirt into the grave. They were then all dismissed.

Tina entered the car first. Sitting down, she closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. Yafya entered not long after, looking over his disturbed companion. “Are yo-” She raised her hand, not wanting him to finish the question. “Not now.”

-

The door had barely just opened when Tina set off on a brisk pace to the kitchen. She was already uncorking a bottle of Amarone by the time the horse turned the corner. Yafya wasn’t exactly sure what to say or do, so he simply leaned against a counter adjacent to the Spartan. She didn’t bother with a glass nowadays, unless they were sitting down for a real dinner.

“Thank you.” The horse finally said after her first few sips.

Now it was Tina’s turn to be confused. “For what?”

“For telling me to go today. I… don’t get out that often for anything besides work. I’m not a political Beastar unlike my other counterparts. I don’t shake hands or kiss babies. I never really felt like I had time for it.”

“I’m sure you probably didn’t. It’s certainly enough work to keep us busy. I understand not having enough time.” Tina lifted her bottle again.

Yafya took a moment to secure his blinders. He then looked over to the Commander’s cover and its emblem. “Would you do it again?”

“Do what again?”

“Everything. All of the choices that led you here. Do you think it would be worth doing over again?” He looked over to her. “It’s what I ask myself when I think about the past.”

Tina closed her eyes and thought about her life. _Would I do it over again?_ _Would it be worth it?_ She nodded. In spite of it all, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Then you know you’ve made the right choices.”

Tina took a deep breath and a little smile appeared. “Thank you.”

“No need. Let’s just keep making the right choices. Together.”


	14. Don't Blink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark back again. Sorry about no update message last week, was just kinda tired. Anyway, most of my major projects are finished so I'm going to try and invest more time into this story. Hope you are all enjoying it so far and feel free to comment/criticize. Shadow=Elite Editor. Hope you have a good day!

Nomad reread the same page of his book for the third time now, unable to concentrate. In the background was the droning tone of his Capuchin math teacher, who he had long ago tuned out. They were in completely different sections, so the Spartans' presence in class was merely for attendance. Despite his First Year semester exam being less than a month away, the most pressing thought on Nomad's mind was lunch. Or was it baseball? Maybe his rifle? His mind really couldn't decide. The usually cocky soldier was feeling rather spacey today. _They probably fucked with the smoother formula again._

The bell rang and Nomad mechanically packed his things. He swung his pack on and closed his eyes, using his muscle memory to guide his steps down the lecture room stairs. _Definitely going to have to talk to Tina about the-_

The titan bumped into someone midway down. "Woah!" Nomad opened his eyes to see a curly, reddish brown outline of fur getting knocked off balance. Whoever it was, they were going to be tumbling the rest of the way if he didn't act fast. He reached out just in time to grab their wrist and pull them back to his step, narrowly avoiding disaster. The animal was lighter than he'd predicted and their momentum only stopped as they caught themselves in his chest. Only when she finally looked up did Nomad see the soft lavender eyes of a she-wolf staring back at him.

It took a few heartbeats for both of them to register that they should put some space between each other. They took steps back accordingly and tried to apologize.

"Sorry about that! I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I'm so sorry! I should have let you go first."

Ana was almost at the door when she turned around to see the awkward little interaction unfold. A few other animals had noticed, but either didn't care or needed to get to their next class. The pale girl smacked Damon to grab his attention.

The medic rubbed the back of his head. "Hey! What was that for?" He turned around and finally saw his brother. A smile crept up on his lips.

Nomad's mind was currently attempting to complete a flurry of objectives, mostly pertaining to atoning for his abnormal clumsiness. "No no, it was my fault. Please let me make up for it." _Think idiot, what do animals like? FOOD, bingo! Damn, sometimes my genius is almost frightening._ "Can I pay for your dinner?"

The wolf was taken back by the proposal at first, taking a moment to ponder it. Her clawed hand came up to hide her snout as she thought. She eventually relented. "Okay. 7 o'clock, by the main tree in the cafeteria."

 _1900._ "Alright, got it. By the main tree. I'll see you then." Nomad then rushed off to his Gamma comrades.

The three began walking to their Seaspeak class, moving at a slightly more brisk pace due to their delay. Ana grinned as she typed something in on her tacpad. It had been about two weeks since they first started working out with the 701 group and the analyst was looking a little more comfortable. She had even started coming back to lunches on occasion, keeping most of her conversations to her CQC lessons with Legosi. Damon's own smile was ear to ear as he walked with a more pronounced swagger.

His brother questioned his jovial attitude. "What's got you two high on sunshine?"

Damon patted his brother on the back as he switched from Beast to standard English. "Just happy to see that you landed a date."

 _Date? What does he mean by-_ Nomad hadn't even finished his reasoning before his brother started talking again.

"Yep. I really didn't know that wolves did it for you but hey, to each their own." Damon chuckled as he could see just how oblivious his twin had been. "Come on man, were you even paying attention?"

_What was there to pay attention to!? I just wanted to get her dinner!_

The medic turned to Ana. "Help me out here. He's still not getting it."

"It's all in the tail." She stated, giving a wave of the hand.

Nomad started playing back the encounter in his mind. The tail had been hard to see from his angle of course, but he was sure that it had been down with a slight curl when he'd initially grabbed her. _Duh, she was aggressive in response to a potential threat. No surprise there._ Then it relaxed as she calmed, and finally it was straight up wagging. _In the wild that would mean…_

Ana leaned into Nomad with a diagram of tail signals on her tacpad. "A high tail like hers tends to indicate dominance, confidence, and, when wagging, aggressive arousal."

Damon busted out cackling as he leaned on his brother's shoulder. Nomad's eyes were wild with confusion. "What!? We just bumped into each other!"

The techie wiped the display off her screen nonchalantly. "Oh calm down you big wuss. I'm sure she's not planning to strap you to a bed anytime soon. Her actual intentions are probably a lot more complicated than what you can see waving on her backside. She's just interested in you is all."

Nomad heaved a heavy breath. "Alright then, we're just going to be friends."

* * *

Durham and Nomad stepped out of the fieldhouse showers and began drying themselves off.

The coyote took special care to get the moisture out of his long ears. "Coach seemed pretty pissed today when Kasey missed that pop up."

A Koala had stepped up to bat during practice and caught a piece of one of Durham's pitches. It flew almost straight up, a relatively easy out for a catcher. Still, the Orangutan had dropped it, bringing on a decent chewing out from their coach.

"No kidding. Chiyo looked like he was going to have an aneurysm right there on the field!" Nomad began laughing when he thought about the fuming Bison's reaction. He then checked the time. _5:30. Plenty of time._

"So Durham."

"Yeah."

"How do you…" Nomad scratched the top of his head with a new uncertainty. "How do you talk to girls?"

Durham looked to the Spartan with raised brows. These beings always seemed so sure of themselves, always knowing how to act.

The coyote smiled. "What, you never talked to any girls before coming here? Don't you talk to Ana?"

Nomad scoffed. "I said 'girl,' not 'technobabble assault female.' Big difference."

Durham had a weary grin. "A little harsh don't you think?"

"I don't think she'd want to be seen as anything else…" The soldier then stuck out a finger at the coyote. "But don't tell her I said that."

"Alright, alright. So, talking to girls. What brought this up all the sudden?"

"Well, I'm having dinner with a female wolf tonight."

Durham's face lit up. "Really! What's her name?"

"I didn't get it. I'm just going to buy her dinner in the cafeteria tonight, because I almost, uh, ran her over in class."

Durham had moved into the main locker room and dressed in. "And that worked?"

The Spartan followed along and did the same in his locker. "It's not like I meant to! It was an accident and I felt like I needed to do something to apologize."

"What did her tail look like when you asked her out?"

Nomad sighed, not correcting his terminology about the situation. "It was straight up and wagging."

Durham nodded in approval. "Nice."

"Listen, I just want to be friends with her. So, I have to learn how to talk to her."

The coyote shut his locker and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I don't see what your problem is man. You seem to keep up conversations just fine. Just talk about yourself, let her talk about herself, and don't be weird."

Nomad stood tall with his own bag. "You make it sound so easy."

* * *

Nomad checked his phone again. _1830, final inspection time._ He looked himself over in the mirror once more. _Blessed by god's own hand. A true masterpiece before you._ The Spartan laughed a little. _Alright, maybe a bit far. Hold up. What's that?_ A few black hairs had appeared on his upper lip at some point. While having already gone through artificial puberty, this is the first time he'd actually seen facial hair. _Well that's not going to fly._

The Spartan walked out of the bathroom and searched through his duffle bag. _Come on, I know I left you somewhere in-Here!_ He pulled out a Ka-Bar knife and looked it over. _I know we weren't supposed to take these, but it's better to ask for forgiveness._ Nomad went back to his mirror and wetted the blade. He carefully aimed for the nuisance hairs and-

Damon barged through the bathroom door, slamming it against Nomad. "Hey Doggystyle!"

The bump jerked Nomad's hand. He could feel the warmth already trickling down his lip. "You stupid bastard."

Damon peaked around the door to see his brother's bloodied lip and knife. "Whoops, my bad."

The twin tried washing it off, but he had got himself good. The blood wouldn't stop. "This is just fucking perfect." He took a towel and put pressure on the cut. "You've still got biofoam, right?"

"Yes, but before you get your hopes up, no you cannot use it on a little cut. I'm saving it."

Nomad turned to his brother with fire in his eyes. "Oh come the fuck on. You're the one that did this!"

"While I understand that, I would rather use it when one of us is bleeding out. Once you pop the seal that stuff doesn't stay good forever. Plus I believe we're even now." Damon shrugged off his brother's intensity, he still kept a grudge about that spitball.

The self-sure brother shook a clenched fist at his perpetrator, imagining that he was strangling him. "What are you even here for?"

"Oh, just wanted to tell you good luck and don't screw it up... that's about it." Damon looked at his brother, sighed, and shook his head before leaving. Nomad, still furious, began grumbling as he checked on his reflection. He looked like an idiot, though, it probably wouldn't leave a scar.

The medic stomped back in with some alcohol, cotton balls, and a couple butterfly closures. "Hold still." Damon cleaned the wound with the alcohol and sealed it with the closure.

He then patted his brother's shoulder and smiled. "If nothing else you have an icebreaker setup."

Nomad smirked as he felt over the seal. "Yeah, I can talk to her about how much of a jackass my brother is."

Damon chuckled a little. "At least I'm not boring."

"Most of the time. Now get out of here. Can't have you tearing me up worse than you already have."

Damon exited the bathroom. "Fine, fine. Don't have too much fun tonight."

Nomad called out before the door could close. "Just going to be friends."

* * *

Nomad waited by the main tree, leaning back in his seat. Choosing the side with the one-on-one square tables, he wondered if the setting was too personal. _Well, it's not like anybody else is going to be here._ The Spartan waved to a couple passing first-years he knew. They actually waved back to his surprise. _Definitely a lot worse places to crash._

After a few more minutes of waiting, he pulled up his phone. _1915\. I'm sure she's just running late._ He waited a little longer, had a coffee, and watched as the cafeteria slowly emptied. _1930\. Not like I have anywhere else to be._ Nomad played a few rounds of online chess on his phone, demolishing the unknown competition, rising in the ranks of anonymous board game enthusiasts. _1945\. Sorry, but if I don't eat now I'm never going to._ The titan had a soy steak, steamed vegetables, and a bottle of green tea. He was the last customer of the day. _2000._ _Well, guess the jokes on me._

Nomad hummed as he hopped down the main building's stairs and into the frosty night. For anybody looking at him from the outside, he looked rather happy. He refused to let his disappointment get the better of him, though he could still see the curly hair outline of the wolf-girl when closed his eyes.


	15. Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you all stay safe and have a good gathering with friends and family. Thank you all for taking the time to read.

Louis made his way up to the gardening club for one of his regular meetings with Haru. He really hoped she finally told that behemoth of a creature to switch days. The red deer was tired of having to deal with him. Louis had only seen Damon twice in passing, but he always set off his herbivore instincts when they crossed. It was unlike any other species in the school.

 _These Spartans, they obviously never evolved in the traditional sense_. Their faces were flatter, like the primates of the school, but they bore no fangs and had far less hair. Their movements were fluid, but strong, always filled with purpose. Besides just their looks, their abilities were unnerving as well. Louis had seen the video of Damon and the Black Bear. The beast was easily a hundred and fifty kilograms, and the soldier threw him effortlessly. _They're like freaks of nature… and I'd trade places with them without a second thought._

In truth, Louis was quite envious of their strength. His pathetic weakness had always been a point of contention within himself. _I bet they never feel the need to run, to back down from anyone or anything. And yet, they are not blatantly arrogant with their strength._ As the red deer approached the rooftop arch, he saw movement in the greenhouse behind a short wall of vegetation.

"Haru." Louis called out.

The movement stopped for a brief moment before straightening out. The blurred figure's head almost reached the ceiling. _That is not Haru._

Damon stepped outside, rolling his sleeves back down. His hands still had some residue on them from the granulated lime he'd been spreading. "She's not here right now. Do you need something?"

"No, I just needed to have a discussion with her." Louis' eyes wandered over to her shack.

Damon raised a suspicious eyebrow. "'A discussion.' Is that what it's called here?"

Louis was quick to meet his accuser. "Excuse me?"

"Intercourse. Is it called 'a discussion' here?" Damon bluntly clarified. He could feel his tension grow. For the past two weeks he hadn't seen Haru on his usual tending days. He'd wanted to clear things up with her, but they had yet to cross paths since then. Part of the soldier blamed the deer for the absence, and the other part blamed himself.

Louis crossed his arms and looked to the side for a moment. He had a tough time believing that Haru would just expose them to the Spartan, so it was far more logical that he'd discovered it himself. _What could he do with this information? Is he going to blackmail me and threaten to go public with it? Just how much does he know about me?_

Damon breathed deeply, keeping himself in check. _If this guy really is getting set up to be the next Beastar, I need to be careful about how I go about this._ "Listen, I know it's really none of my business what the two of you do when I'm not around. You are both my seniors and I'll respect whatever your wishes are pertaining to the matter, but… you hurt her."

The red deer's mind switched gears from worrying about himself, to worrying about the rabbit. "What?"

The Spartan thought about the tears that streamed down her face. There was rough, melancholic perfection to her. With the way she laid, he could have swore she was some sort of naturalist renaissance painting. Then again, he might just be romanticizing his memory. "She was crying when I first saw her last. I'm no expert on relationships, but I don't believe that is a good sign."

Louis recounted his previous visit with Haru. Once they had finished, she asked him to stay for a little longer, and he said he couldn't. That's when she asked again, but it was somehow… different. Not like begging, no, she was too strong for that. It was just a firmer request, which he denied and reminded her of their arrangement. The rabbit had seemed to take it well at the time, she didn't even seem phased. She even smiled. _It was a lie._ "Our relationship is…" Louis wanted to tell the giant it was nothing, but he faltered when he thought of just how long he'd been with Haru. "Complicated."

"I'm sure it is. I haven't been around your culture very much, but it doesn't seem to favor your connection with her." Damon noted the grim expression on Louis' face. _Well that wasn't reassuring. Say something positive damnit._ "But if anybody had to make it work I think you could. All you need to do is think about how she may feel."

Louis put himself on pause to analyze the oddity that was this situation. _Am I really going to take advice from some near hairless, alien creature?_ "I'll… be better."

Damon smiled a little at his small victory. "Good, well I-" The rooftop entrance opened to reveal the little white topic of discussion. Louis turned toward the noise.

Haru seemed worn out as she walked through, but was surprised to readiness when she saw the two males. The sun was setting behind them, casting long shadows that nearly reached the rabbit's feet. "Oh, uhm, hey."

The Spartan snapped off a response before the Deer could. "Hey Haru. Where've you been?"

"I took a break and visited my family." She again peered back and forth between the two. "What have you two been up to?"

Louis took the lead on this one with his reestablished confidence. "We were just having a chat. Damon had just finished his tasks and was about to leave. Right?"

As he looked at him, Damon could see the deer nod. Whether it was out of respect or just a sign to leave the Spartan couldn't tell. _Don't get used to ordering me around horn-head. You better do right by her._ "Right. We can catch up later, Haru. You two have a good evening."

Damon made his exit down the stairs, his sunlight cutting out as the door shut.

* * *

The next morning.

* * *

"Hey Spartan!" A meek voice squeaked out in the crowded hallways.

Damon stopped in his tracks, forcing those behind to divert into the center of traffic. He'd just finished his history class and was heading towards the Gamma Students' rally point where they'd head to math together. The sound bounced off the walls awkwardly, like it was everywhere at once. He scanned around.

"Down here big guy!" Damon looked down and saw a male Rat and three Chipmunks, one male and two female. They were packed up against a wall. The Rat spoke up again. "You're heading to 1st Year math right?"

The Spartan nodded. "Sure am. What's up?"

"Mind giving us a lift to our Computer Lab? I think it's on the way and we can't cross the hall."

Damon took a knee next to the wall and held out his hand. "I can, but I only have two ha-" The group of rodents scrambled up his long arm and settled themselves on his shoulders. Their tiny hands and feet tickled and Damon had to suppress his muscles from spasming in reaction. _Great, I'm public transport now._

The rodents began chattering as Damon once again started towards class. "I told you he'd be fine with it." He could distinctly tell the Rat's voice from the rest now. "Thanks by the way. Sorry to ask, but which brother are you?"

"Damon." The soldier stopped at an intersection to let a stubby Boar cross before filing in behind.

"Ahhh, the great bear-tosser huh?" The Spartan felt moist warm air breathe on the back of his neck. "Alright, got your scent now. Won't confuse you again." No matter how many times it happened, he was never sure if he was going to get used to animals sniffing him over.

Turning a corner, Damon finally saw Ana. She was staring at her tacpad with an irritated expression. Damon also noticed there was a severe lack of his brother. _He seemed fine this morning._ Nomad had told Damon about being stood up the night before, but he hadn't used those exact words. While he could get twitchy or agitated, Nomad was never one for being downtrodden.

"Hey Ana," Damon started in regular English. This made the pale girl turn to him with a puzzled face. "Got some new passengers today so watch your tongue." Ana nodded and matched Damon's pace as he got to her. They'd be late if they waited around any longer.

"Are they speaking Alien?" One of the lighter voice chipmunks questioned. The other rodents shushed her, fearing the possibility that they could lose their ride. They turned to the girl who was now looking them over.

"Aw, they're so cute. I could just stuff them into a sock and swing them around my room like a flail." Ana said with a cold-hearted smile. "I fucking hate rodents." A bad memory with the mice of Onyx filled her mind.

Damon responded with a shallow laugh. "I know that, but they're not on you so just go with it. Anyway, have you seen Nomad?"

Ana shrugged. "Not his keeper. Haven't seen him since breakfast. Definitely should have been here though."

The brother kept scanning back and forth. As the group neared the First Year mathematics room, Damon felt a tug of a small hand on the right side of his collar. He looked through the window of the large species door to see a room of obsolete computers. "This is our stop Spartan." The titan took a knee and stuck his arm down towards the small species door. After the chipmunks made their way through, the Rat stopped and turned back. "Thanks again gigantor."

"Not a problem." Damon stood tall and continued on to class with Ana.

As the two Gamma students passed the classroom's threshold, they saw Nomad and the Wolf-girl talking where they had first made contact. Her hands were clasped together like she was pleading with the twin. Damon and Ana simply took their seats, not wanting to be marked absent, but watched intently until the bell finally rang.

When the class finally let out, Damon and Ana gravitated to Nomad as they exited into the hallway once again.

"So what happened?" The medic spouted off.

Nomad's face took on a rare look of compassion. "Oh she had an emergency last night. Her friend got flooded with homework and had a panic attack. She had to stay and comfort her. Now she's going to take her into town to decompress, and invited me to come along if I wanted." A little smile then found its way onto his face.

Ana threw an elbow into Nomad's side, almost slamming him into the wall. Though the act was more out of mischief than malice. "You better not be going soft on us Six."

Nomad held his side with an unwavering look of glee. "What? I'm just making friends."


	16. The Less I Know the Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark again. Sorry about the wait. Had a lot of exams to do, so I hope a longer chapter than usual will make up for it. Shoutout to Shadow for editing. This might be the last chapter for 2020 and if so Happy Holidays! I've got a lot planned for 2021 story wise. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

“Protein time!” Damon announced to the dogs of the 701 dorm. It was Friday afternoon and the soreness from that morning’s workout was well setting in. There was a collective groan from most of the guys, except for Legosi that is. He actually hopped out of his bunk to be the first to the box of bars. 

The medic nodded in approval. “That’s the spirit.”

Nomad took two bars, arcing one to Collot. The Sheepdog lazily unwrapped the supplement and began chewing on it, not even bothering to sit up. The other bar was still the Spartan’s hands and he wound his arm up, acting like he was in a pitching position. “Durham! Line drive coming at you!” 

The coyote had almost been asleep when Jack had let the twins in. Nomad’s surprise drill sent a tinge of fear through Durham, and he reacted by first covering his groin while his other hand reached out to intercept the bar. Luckily, it made contact right on his paw and he relaxed his personal protection.

Jack sat in his bunk, messaging his quadriceps with both hands. His protein dangled out of his fangs as he tried desperately to work out the pain. “Mumimo, mo offnss, buu uff enn ettin evier.” Everyone collectively looked at the golden Labrador in confusion. The dog tried the sentence again, this time without the bar in his mouth. “Sorry. I said you’ve been getting heavier, Miguno. I think you’ve been building up some muscle.”

The Hyena’s face lit up with glee. He curled his arm up to flex a progressing bicep. “You really think so? I’ve been feeling better after our workouts, so I started doing some on my own.”

Damon sealed up his box. “I’m sure you all have been putting on weight. Since it’s denser, when you replace the same mass of fat with muscle, you’ll definitely shoot up on the scale. Nomad and I are both about a hundred and fifteenish kilos.”

Jack laughed in an overwrought fashion upon hearing their true weight. He knew that they were heavier than Legosi, who was about 70 kilos, but he never would have thought they were that solid. “I’m sure you guys have never had to replace any fat. You both look like you were cut out of a mountain.”

Nomad shrugged at the comment. “Well when you're assigned only the best supplies, training routines, and instructors in the galaxy, it’s hard not to be in good shape. That’s just what it’s like being a Spartan. We didn’t want to do anything else.”

Damon shot him a glance, as if telling him to stop. Jack and Legosi, the only ones currently looking, noticed the gesture.

“So were your parents Spartans?” Jack prodded.

Nomad was now chewing the inside of his cheek and had begun talking out of the opposite side of his mouth. “Uh, no, they were-” “We don’t remember them very well.” Damon interjected rather indifferently. The rest of 701 had either turned over or sat up to look at the twins.

“Oh.” Jack responded in reflex. Then the implication of Damon’s response fully hit him, leaving the Labrador slightly dispirited. “Oh… sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Damon put on a smile and shook his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. The UNSC adopted us after they passed. They gave us everything we needed to be successful.” His voice became monotone and he made firm eye contact with Jack, while Nomad looked off to the side with a more bitter expression.

The air went still with an awkward silence until Legosi spoke up. He wanted to move past the topic. “So what was military life like?”

Most of the school knew the Gammas were some sort of soldiers, made apparent by their original introduction and what little information Tina released, but there wasn’t much more said outside of that. Journalists across the world had indulged themselves in all sorts of conspiracies about the true origins of the outsiders, but there was no true backing to them. Several more outspoken Sublime Beastars had condemned Yafya’s rapid integration policy, but since Cherryton was a private institution there was nothing that could be done about it. The rapid dip in crime and evidence of the Gammas’ upstanding nature had spoken enough for themselves. Nobody really questioned the Spartans beyond surface-level subjects, whether it was out of fear or politeness.

Nomad leaned against the dorm wall and deeply reflected on his experiences on Onyx. “It was fucking awesome.”

The reaction drew intrigue from his companions.

“We got to fight, shoot guns, and blow shit up on occasion.” The soldier’s grin was now ear to ear. “One time I got to fire a SPNKR, and this fucker is HUGE. We’re talking about a meter and a half long rocket launcher that uses 102 millimeter, surface-to-surface missiles. ”

This had Collot’s full attention. “Daaamn. That’s like one Durham long, or four Voss’ stacked on top of each other.”

The fennec fired back. “Or maybe one of you if you chose to cut your hair once in a while, you mop looking mutt.”

The scruffy dog put his hands up defensively. “I’m just stating facts here.”

Nomad gave a laugh at the aside before continuing. “So this thing was awkward as hell to use right. The launcher itself was longer than me at the time. I eventually get up there and I see Damon shoot his shot. It hit the target and splattered paint on the rear end of the dummy car, because we were just supposed to be using fake rounds. He clears it, hands it to me and whispers-” Damon picks up his part with a grin, already knowing where the story is going. “You might want to squeeze slower, it’s got a heavy trigger pull.” Nomad nods. “Yup. So I load a new round, put the targeter perfectly on the car, and gently pull on the trigger until the rocket comes flying out, straight up vaporizing this hunk of metal. Shrapnel flew absolutely everywhere.”

Jack shook his head in bewilderment. “Wait! I thought you said you were using fake rockets?”

Nomad pointed his index finger up in the air. “Yes. We were  _ supposed  _ to be using fake rockets. As it turns out, some jarhead bumblefuck put a real one in the practice case. And I am the lucky man who got to fire it.”

While most of the room were amused by the story, Damon had noticed Legosi looked confused. Like there was some part of it he was still figuring out.

Something was not adding up in Legosi’s mind. The Wolf would quickly admit he was never a natural when it came to math, unlike Jack, but these humans are easily two meters at the age of fifteen. How young would they have been if they were firing rocket launchers bigger than they were? “How old were you when you fired it?”

Nomad’s gaze turned up and away for a moment as he searched for an answer. Before he could respond, Damon jumped in again. “That’s classified.” Nomad shot his brother a look as if he had just insulted him. They switched to their own language and began to argue.

Nomad stared right into Damon. “You can’t seriously be doing this, right?”

Damon returned his brother’s eyes. “It’s classified information! It’s not ours to distribute.”

“It was classified when ONI existed. I don’t think they have jurisdiction outside of their own timeline.”

“Tina and James are both ONI. You know that! Not to mention it was Yafya who wants us to-”

Nomad straightened up from the wall with an agitated energy. “Fuck Yafya! What does it matter if we let our friends know? What are they going to do, huh? Sell us out? To who? What would they have to gain?”

This was the first time the 701 crew had seen the twins fight. Their usual calm and collected auras had been replaced by impassioned confrontation. They saw glimpses of it when the two competed during workouts, but never anything to this level. The way they carried themselves now looked like they could come to blows at any minute. This, combined with the fact the only word the canines could make out was “Yafya,” filled the animals with anxiety.

“We have to adapt Damon. We’re going to be here for a whole year and I don’t want to spend that time lying and deceiving the only people on this planet who actually give a shit about us.”

This visibly rocked the medic and he shifted his stance. “What the hell does that mean?”

“We both read the After Action Reports of TORPEDO and PROMETHEUS. ONI fucked over both Alpha and Beta companies and got them killed.”

Damon took a step closer until he was mere inches from his brother’s face. “Those operations bought humanity time!”

“I never said they didn’t! I’m saying there’s no way ONI didn’t know what they were sending them into! They deliberately kept them in the dark and sent them to the slaughter to be sacrificed, and I refuse to be anything like them!” Nomad then took a deep breath. “You said it yourself. Tina and James are both ONI. If anybody knew what our original mission was, it was them.”

Damon, who now relaxed a fist that had been slowly balling, began hypothesizing just what they had been sent to Nassau station for. He knew that certain Spartans from previous companies had been pulled from their main force for special missions.  _ What kind of mission would we have gone on with 2 Spartan II’s and a CAT 2 Spartan III? Or rather, what mission was the rest of Gamma Company being sent on that warranted pulling us out?  _ The second question began weighing heavily on Damon’s mind. He’d never even thought to question his superiors, but that’s just what Nomad did in his free time.

Nomad put a hand on his brother’s shoulder trying to bring him out of whatever thoughts he was delving into. “If you really don’t want me to say anything, I won’t, but if we start getting into something serious I don’t want them around.”

Damon turned to the 701 crew and looked at each of them. He felt selfish now. If they were really going to do this, they would be putting a heavy burden on every one of them. He finally began speaking beast once more. “Mind if we sit down? This might take a while.”

Jack nodded.

The twins took their seats next to the window. Damon sat straight up while Nomad leaned back a little more. “So first things first,” Damon started. “Spartans are not a different species from humans, we are selected from the regular human populace due to our higher quality genes and adaptability.”

The 701 crew was watching the medic intently, Jack began taking mental notes and stacking up his questions.

“Candidates without immediate family members, from the ages of 4-6, are selected and given the opportunity to try out. Those who accept head off to camp Currahee on the planet Onyx. There, for the next seven years, we underwent high intensity schooling and combat training. The highlights of military history, survival skills, close quarters combat, first aid, we learned and mastered anything with practical application in the field. Just before we turned 12 we began receiving increased supplements in our food to induce artificial puberty, this was because our bodies needed to go through their changes before augmentations. Once we were ready, we boarded a hospital ship named the UNSC  _ Hopeful  _ and took on our augments.”

Durham broke into the conversation. “What do you mean ‘augments?’”

“Basically every modification needed to turn a scrawny kid into a demigod.” Nomad chipped in nonchalantly. “Bones coated in carbide ceramic that need at least a ton of force to fracture. Hyper-dense muscles that increase work with less weight, letting us flip cars on their sides with relative ease. Optimizations to our retinas and neurons that give us night vision, a three hundred percent faster reaction speed, along with a boost to our creativity and memory. Some other medical procedure that helps to maintain blood pressure and stabilize major bleedout. And last, but certainly not least, a mutation to our frontal lobe that enhances all of that and allows us to function under severe trauma that would usually send a normal person into shock. During this we enter a last-ditch berserk mode until we either take our medicine or die.” Nomad hadn’t moved from his relaxed position as he explained all of this to the now wide-eyed canines. “Questions?”

Voss put up a hand before pointing at Damon. “So, you totally could have killed that bear if you wanted to.” The medic sighed and shaded his eyes in response.

“Oh without a doubt. He could have ripped off his head and shit down his neck. I personally would have put my foot in his spine and forced that fucker to wheel his fatass around, but Damon has always been a softy.”

“Cockbite.” Damon muttered in English.

“Assmuncher.” His brother replied in turn.

Jack flagged his hands and got to his feet. “Wait, wait, hold on. Why did you accept? And why was the UNSC recruiting kids? Surely there were a lot of other people that could do the same job right?”

Nomad’s mood shifted again.  _ I might need another smoother if we're going all on this one.  _ “We have a very… personal motivator.” He grumbled.

Damon dropped his previously positive attitude, letting the true weight of the subject show for a brief glimpse. “Yeah. You guys are going to need to keep an open mind about this one.”

“What, is there something more unbelievable than three teen killing machines falling from another reality and making friends with its populace?” Voss questioned sarcastically.

“Yes.” Damon took in a deep breath. “We joined the UNSC to help in the war effort to prevent the galactic genocide of humanity by a coalition of religious aliens known as the Covenant. See the Covenant-”

“The Covenant are the ones that took our parents and burned our home.” Nomad hissed before continuing to gnash at the inside of his cheek. The canines could smell the scent of blood coming from inside of his mouth as he talked. “They’ve killed billions of us and destroyed whole systems of human planets. We joined to get even… there isn’t much more to it than that.”

That effectively ended the conversation. The 701 crew were too stunned to get their minds organized. Whether or not they believed everything the two had said, the Spartans could not tell, but Nomad was done talking. He got up and left, swallowing some of the blood that had begun pooling in his mouth.

Damon watched his brother walk out. The medic wasn’t sure what it was, but for some reason talking about their parents always seemed to hit Nomad harder than him. Of course Damon had always loved them for the short time they were in his life, it’s hard not to love unconditionally as a child, but he had let them go long before Nomad even thought about it.  _ You can’t help them now. _

Damon got up next as he rubbed the back of his neck. The tension had been building in him since he’d first started arguing. “I’m sorry about that. We probably should not have told you anything. I need to catch up to him, so save your questions for now. I’ll explain as much as you need me to later.” The medic then made his way out of the room, and began to trail his brother.

-

Ana was up in the rehearsal room scaffolding finishing the final checks for the lighting. She had pushed Legosi rather hard during their training today, so she offered to take on his usual duties so he could leave early. At this point there were only two animals left in the club. Louis who was in his office, and Riz who was currently piddling with a large theater amp. The room’s lights dimmed for a heartbeat and a small shower of sparks spilled out from Riz’ amp. The Brown Bear took a step back clutching his hand, arm fur fluffed up from the electric shock.

The pale girl hopped the safety railing just as Louis opened the door. Her abrupt landing in front of him alarmed the Red Deer. He decided to stay back and observe for a moment.

When she first approached the Grizzly, Ana saw a blank expression on his face as he stared at his hand.  _ The lights are on, but nobody’s home.  _ “Everything alright Riz?” 

Upon realizing the Spartan’s sudden presence, the passive smile returned to Riz’ face. “Yes, I’m fine. Just having trouble with the wiring is all.”

Looking closer, Ana could see what Riz’ problem was. The excessive wiring made it difficult for the large carnivore to properly maneuver his paws around. Just when he thought he fixed one problem, he got a claw hung up and created another one. “I can help if you want. I’m no electrician, but I’ve got nimble fingers. Just tell me what to do.”

The grin on the Bear’s face actually seemed to become more genuine when he heard the Spartan’s offer. “Would you really? That would be great. I’ll start you off here.”

Louis continued to look on as Riz directed Ana through the maze of wires in order to make the proper repairs. When it was all said and done, they played the beginning piece from their upcoming performance, the  **_Winter Safari Tournament_ ** _.  _ The music was crisp and lively. Ana had searched up the play and found out it was more of an action-centered performance. She was actually looking forward to seeing it.

Riz closed back up the amp’s panel. “Thank you Ana.”

Ana nodded. “Anytime. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Louis noted the Spartan’s clear lack of reservation when it came to interacting with Riz, despite him being the only creature who could possibly match her in stature. He cleared his throat to make his own presence known. “Ana, could I have a word with you in my office?”

“Of course.” She left the Bear to go about his way and followed the Deer.

When she entered, Ana noticed that the atmosphere seemed… different. While there still was a silent friction between them, Louis didn’t look as passive aggressive as he once had. He appeared more curious than anything.

Louis forced himself to relax in his chair. “Please have a seat Ana.”

The Spartan did so, now curious herself for her being here. She let him continue.

“Why did you join the Drama Club?”

_ At least he’s finally being straightforward.  _ “Curiosity for the most part. The arts that we study rarely include plays… I also didn’t have much else to do in all honesty.”

“What do you think about the people here in the club?”

Ana couldn’t help but smirk.  _ Funny question coming from you.  _ “You’re all definitely interesting characters.”

Louis smiled at that too, but it quickly faded. There was a slight shift in his voice, possessing a bit of… regret? “You hate me. Don’t you?”

Ana nodded without hesitation. “Yes, I do, but I respect your position.” She had to resist going into any further detail.

Louis realized his mistake with the way he’d first approached the Spartan. He had tried playing mind games with her, but there was never going to be any winning on that front.  _ These beings are only as complicated as I make them.  _ “What if I offered a spot on the Dance Team? I’m sure you have the ability to catch up before our premiere.”

Ana looked out of the window, it was already dark out.  _ Why now of all times to try a make up? Was he purposely going to mess with the performance to see me fail? No, he’d never want to risk that stage. Still, better to play safe. _ “No. I’ve already found my place here thanks to you.”

Louis nodded in almost a solemn manner. “Very well then.” He searched her eyes in silence for a moment before asking his next question. “How much do you know about me?”

_ You’re really pushing it now. Well, can’t say you didn’t ask for it.  _ “Everything.” She replied teresely.

Unconvinced, Louis rested his head on his hand in a relaxed manner. “Is that so... care to prove it?”

_ Here we go.  _ “Certainly.” Ana crossed her legs and sat back. Information was her domain, and this deer was about to learn that the hard way. “You are insecure about your antlers, so you order replacements and slowly shave out the fake portions as your real points come back.”

So far Louis seemed unimpressed.  _ I’m sure she just found some order forms under my name. I’ll start ordering under a fake name from now on. _

“You have regular intercourse with the rabbit from the garden club.”

_ And? I’m sure that Damon told her ab- _

“Despite being engaged to a Doe by the name of Azuki. Your marriage will serve as a merger between your father’s company and her father’s company.”

_ Hmm… well then. She really does do her research. _

“The pistol in your drawer is usually chambered in 10 millimeter Hollow Point, but you have started using Full Metal Jackets since I’ve joined the club.”

_ When the hell did she get in here? I lock this place up every night! Unless… _

“I know everything about you, Number 4.”

Louis stopped leaning on his hand as he straightened up.  _ How the fuck does she know that? Where did she find out? I thought Oguma erased everything. _

Ana uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She began leaning over Louis’ desk, looming over him like a predator with its prey in the perfect position. “But the most important thing I have discovered about you, since I first arrived here, is that you are absolutely, unequivocally, terrified of me.”

The Spartan then felt the cold steel of the 10mm pistol under her chin. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. You don’t know what it's like to be raised for death.”

Ana’s face changed then. She smiled and slowly, cautiously raised a hand. Louis let it travel to the back of her neck. The pale girl then pulled on a chain until two pieces of stamped metal were revealed from her collar. They read  _ ANA-G127, A+.  _ “Oh, but I do Louis. We each bear our numbers and names. We were both raised for death. You were meant to receive it, and I was meant to bring it. We are equals in this, and this alone.”

In less than a second, Ana’s hand had clasped around Louis’, her pinky slipping between the hammer and the firing pin to keep it from shooting. Louis had been far too slow and she was now peeling his fingers away from the gun. It was hers now. The Spartan stood tall before twirling the barrel away from her and towards the dear. Ana squeezed the trigger without another thought.

**_Click._ **

Louis was frozen in his seat, unable to move and somewhat confused as to how he could still hear his sharp breath.

“If you’re going to keep a gun close to you,” She racked the slide, still pointing the gun towards Louis. “Make sure you have a round in the chamber.” Ana finally twirled the gun back towards the deer, making sure her index finger was wrapped around the trigger guard so that he couldn’t immediately shoot her.

Louis, after taking a few moments to process all that had just transpired, slowly wrapped a shaking hand around the pistol’s grip. Ana then yanked him out of his seat, ducked underneath his antlers, and embraced him.

“I am not your enemy Louis. So stop treating me like one.” She finally let go of the pistol and took a few steps back.  _ This is so fucking stupid. If he doesn’t kill you, he’s an even bigger idiot than you are. _

The deer gazed between Ana and his gun, baffled at a combination of both of their actions. The Spartan had moved almost all the way to the door by now.

After about half a minute of staring at the weapon, Louis spoke up. “I’l-…” His voice cracked like a prepubescent boy. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ana.”

“See you tomorrow.” She echoed before exiting the door.

The Red Deer would not get a wink of sleep that night.


	17. Take Me Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark here again. Guess I got another one in before the New Year. I just wanted to thank everyone who has liked, followed, bookmarked, and gave kudos over these past few months. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it really is awesome when you peeps do that. Extra big thanks to those who've taken the time to comment and dm. I'm not a professional psychiatrist, but if any of you ever need to just have a back and forth with somebody feel free to message. I'll get back as soon as I can. It's a rough time of year for some people but we can get through it together. Anyways, I hope you all have a Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy the chapter. Peace.

Nomad checked himself over in the mirror with a look of disgust. He wore a red and black plaid long-sleeved shirt with blue jeans and boots. “I look absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

Damon shrugged at his brother’s complaint. “It’s not my fault that you decided to buy only workout clothes. You wanted something to wear on your date and this is what I have.” He tossed over a grey beanie. “You can have that too.”

Nomad tried the cap on before pulling it off and tossing it to the side.  _ Still ridiculous.  _ “Once again, this is not a date, and you have to have something else in here.” The annoyed twin pulled open his closet to see a row of red plaid long sleeve shirts. “My god. I’m related to a psychopath. How do you live like this?”

“By maintaining homeostasis. Anyway, why are you so nervous? Are you really that worried about looking good for that Wolf-girl… what was her name?” Damon feigned ignorance just to see Nomad annoyed to have to say her name again.

“Juno.” He said flatly.

“Ah yes, Juno. Goddess of marriage, pregnancy, and childbirth. Great loyalty and great jealousy that work hand in hand to produce a loyal to a fault companion.” Damon dramatically embellished. “She sounds fantastic for you.”

Nomad hopelessly shut the closet door and immediately went to leave, not stopping to address the description his brother had given. Damon had been like this whole week, up until last night when he had to help him calm down. Nomad tried not to think about it as he headed down the hall and to the stairway.

The medic leaned his head out of the dorm and proceeded to yell after him. “Aw, don’t get in your feelings little man. You know I’m just playing!”

Nomad simply flipped him off as he began to disappear downstairs.

Damon switched to English. “I better get my clothes back you bastard!”

-

Nomad politely waved to the female carnivores that exited their dorm. Some waved back happily, some giggled and whispered something to their friends, but most just nodded and continued on to wherever they had to be.  _ Come on. Don’t tell me she did it again. Fool me once-Wait! There she is. _

The reddish-brown Wolf came out wearing a maroon coat, plaid scarf, and black leggings. Flashing a grin that exposed her sizable fangs, she lightly lifted the end of her scarf and flapped it at the Spartan. “Hey look! We’re matching.” While she looked cute, what Nomad admired was the fact that she could be cute while also being a deadly predator.  _ Duality of beasts. _

Having been captivated by her arrival, Nomad completely missed what she had just said.  _ Fuck, think fast idiot! Compliment, now!  _ “You look great!” He quickly yipped out.

Juno cocked her head slightly and her cute aura slightly matured. “Well, I guess that means we both look great.”

Even with an improved cardiovascular system, Nomad couldn’t help but think his heart rate had marginally quickend. It was cold, but it wasn’t cold enough for his cheeks to flush like they were currently.  _ What the hell is happening? _

The Wolf’s look changed back to her more lighthearted side as she turned and side hugged the dog next to her. It was a lithe and lanky albino husky who seemed to not be all into the hug. She wore a beanie that had a strange pattern of pink, purple, and blue while a pair of glasses rested on her snout. Her purple sweater seemed far too long, almost completely covering her paws, and her black leggings seemed to be the exact same as Juno’s, though she didn’t fill them out the same.

“This is Jill!” Juno proclaimed, still clinging onto her. “She’s one of the first friends I made here at Cherryton and my favorite dormate.”

“Hi.” Jill practically whispered. Her tail was firmly tucked between her legs, but Nomad didn’t need to look down to see the rather leery expression she had.

_ Animals sense nervousness right? If I calm down hopefully she will too.  _ “Hey Jill. I’m Nomad. Pleasure to meet you.” He made a semi-gracious bow and came back up with a welcoming smile. Jill’s tail relaxed a little, even starting a little sway.

Juno’s hug seemed to tighten slightly before she finally released Jill. She noticed Jill’s tail as she let go. “See? I told you he was nice. Now let’s get going!” The three were off to the front gate.

“On your six.” Nomad commented, receiving a curious gaze from Jill as they followed the Wolf. The Spartan picked up how she may have been confused. “In the UNSC we use the numbers on a clock to correlate the general position of objects from our points of reference. 12 is front, 6 is back, 3 is right, and 9 is left. So when I say I’m ‘on your six’ it just means I’m behind you.” The husky nodded in new understanding, but decided to say quiet.

-

As the trio finally left the hilltop school, they were immediately on the receiving end of thousands of eyeballs. Nomad could see the snowy husky was trying to shrink in on herself and go unnoticed, but it wasn’t really working. He then tried to separate from the group slightly so that the other animal’s sight lines were more focused on him. Juno seemed rather oblivious to it all and led them with profound confidence.  _ Maybe going off school grounds wasn’t such a great idea. _

Many animals took out their phones to record the alien. By now they had recognized Nomad as the leading socialite of the Gammas. He’d been going out on his own during the weekends to go skateboarding with Collot, and even had started making new acquaintances at the park. Most herbivores still swung wide when they passed by on the sidewalk, but some of the braver carnivores gave him the same space they would any other creature.

Juno spun around and talked to the two as she tramped backwards. “I just know you’re both going to love it. I used to go to this place all the time!” At this point the Wolf was a ball of energy that couldn’t be stopped. Even if Nomad wanted to head back he didn’t think he could convince her.

The Spartan kept an eye on the sidewalk behind her, making sure she wouldn’t fall over anything in her excitement. “I’m sure it’s going to be great.”

After a short walk the group found themselves at a hole in the wall type cafe. Nomad noticed the husky had begun to shiver due to the cold. “We’re here!” Juno exclaimed looking back once more to her followers. Her brow furrowed for a moment and she placed her paws on Jill's shoulders, giving her a little rub. “Looks like just in time too. You look like you’re freezing.”

Jill nodded and Nomad took the lead, holding the door for the canines as they entered. The twin felt the heat wash over him along with the smell of fresh brewed coffee and toasted tofu. He also saw a male Broad-Snouted Caiman light up upon seeing Juno. He might have been an inch or two shorter than her and wore a black undershirt and slacks with a teal apron that had the logo of the cafe on it.

“Heya wolfie! Haven’t seen you in a while. Finally broke down and gave us a visit huh?” The reptile’s smile was vibrant and hardly wavered as he finally lifted his head up to the Spartan. “Annnd you brought some new patrons.”

Juno gave a self assured nod. “Yup. I’ll take three of my usuals.”

“Sure thing Juno. I’ll have those out ri-” A curt whistle interrupted the crocodilian server. It came from a grim looking Antelope near the entrance to the back room. From his lack of a regular uniform, Nomad assumed he was the manager.

“One moment please.” The Caiman went over to his herbivore superior and the two began having a one-way conversation. Whatever the Antelope said, the reptile just nodded and complied. His dejected aura was easily picked up by the three when he returned. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask that your friend wait outside while we get your order.”

Juno cocked her head like she didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The Spartan is not, ‘conducive to our atmosphere.’” The Caiman made it clear the last part of the sentence were not his words. Still it caught the attention of the other animals who were in the immediate area. Some started to whisper  _ “they shouldn’t piss it off,” “I wonder why it’s here,”  _ and “ _ he’s a lot braver than me for saying that.” _

If looks could kill, the glare the Wolf gave the Antelope would have put him six feet under. The manager’s tough demeanor wavered at the sight, but he stood fast and waited for the request to be followed through. 

Nomad couldn't care less if some hoofed stranger didn’t want him in the establishment, it was not worth starting a fight over. A fight with a predetermined outcome of course, but a fight that would cause a scene nonetheless. He laid a hand on the Wolf’s shoulder to deescalate the situation. “It’s okay Juno, I’ll wait outside.”

“I will too.” Jill sounded off with zeal, slightly surprising her two companions. Despite her being cold, it was apparent that she would rather take the chill of the air than that of the patrons.

The twin knew it would be better for the Husky to stay and warm herself up. “No Jill. I’m okay by myself. You can-'' Jill stared her own daggers at the Spartan, obviously not taking no for an answer. “Come right along if you truly wish.” Nomad held the door once again, but before Jill crossed the threshold she turned to the Antelope, slapped her bicep, and flipped up her arm. She then stomped out of the cafe with head and tail held high. The soldier had to turn his head to hide a very wide smile.  _ I guess the bras d’honneur is still alive and well here. _

After stepping onto the sidewalk, Jill immediately pulled her beanie down to her eyes and crossed her arms. She felt the once soothing warmth get sucked out of clothes by a swift breeze. The blistering cold was soon shut out again by what felt like a heavy blanket being wrapped around her. The Husky soon found it was Nomad’s large plaid shirt. When it fully covered her, she looked to question the Spartan whose hands were casually tucked in his pockets. His pro-athlete build made his black undershirt look a little too small on him, and his grin protected him from any of her objections.

Jill simply enjoyed the gesture and held tight to the cloth. “Thank you.” She had already returned to her usually docile self.

“Thank you for standing by me. It means a lot.” Jill nodded and Nomad watched as her tail began fluttering happily. Turned away now, she didn’t seem to notice her reaction, already enraptured by her own thoughts. The two then waited in a mutual silence that neither felt like breaking. It was only when Juno stepped out with a tray of coffee and bags of sandwiches did Jill recognize the sounds of the world.

“I’m so sorry about that Nomad. I didn’t know that they changed managers. I would have never come here if I’d known. I’m never going to spend another Yen there so long as I live.” The flustered Wolf handed the two a bag and a coffee each.

The Spartan couldn’t help but laugh at how worked up she’d become over something he brushed off so easily. “Well they’ve certainly lost a great customer.” Nomad saw her perk up at the comment and he took a sip of his coffee. It was sweet and creamy, vastly different from the strong black coffee that they used to steal from their drill instructors back on Onyx. “It’s good. It’s really good. Thank you Juno.” Juno turned away in a rather coy display and started walking back the way they came. Nomad followed right along, sticking closer to her as they walked.  _ Wait. Is this weird? Is it okay if I get closer?  _ He shot a glance at her tail to see it was nearly slapping him.  _ Still good. _ “How much was it?”

The Wolf waved off the soldier’s request to pay her back as she stuck a straw into her drink. “Please don’t worry about it. I feel like I owe you after that, so you can just consider us even.”

“You sure? Having a Spartan owe you a favor is considered rather valuable where I come from.” The words put a bad taste in his mouth that he hoped wouldn’t annoy the Wolf.  _ Rather valuable? Extraordinarily humble as always you dickhead. _

Juno played with her straw, shifting it between her fangs. “Well there is something I’d like more than money.”

“Name it.”  _ Try to rebound. _

Juno hesitated for a moment, trying to imagine Nomad’s reaction before she asked. She looked around to the Husky who slyly gave a thumbs up out of sight of the Spartan. “The Drama Club is going to be putting on a play called Winter Safari Tournament in a few weeks and, well, I asked Jill to go but she doesn’t like plays and-”

“Done. I’ll see if I can’t get some good seats from Ana. She’s a part of the Production Team so it shouldn’t be too hard.” It was then that Nomad realized how eager he’d been to spend more time with the girl.  _ Shit, was that too eager? I don’t want it to sound desperate.  _ “That cool with you?”

“Yes!” Juno sharply retorted in glee. The outburst seemed to have caught her by surprise, and she quickly regained control. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

“Cool.”

Nomad and Juno continued their crosstalk even through their meals. Jill was more than happy to listen and absorb the friendly atmosphere, even filling in with light commentary that added to the conversation. She still felt like she’d become a third wheel rather quickly. Luckily, they were soon at the school and the group parted for the afternoon. The Spartan had decided to let the Husky hold onto the shirt.

-

Tina was once again planted in front of a monitor. She was going through CCTV film from incidents over the past month. One of them in particular she couldn’t get past. On her screen was the grainy footage of the death of Sergeant Hoover.

It started a few seconds before the officer made it into the shot. The perpetrator, who Tina identified as a male Gazelle, was zig-zagging through the crowded downtown walkways. He had just committed a murder in broad daylight and the Sergeant was the first on the scene. Reports said the killing was a result of heated disagreement with a Panther. When the Gazelle had become agitated, he stabbed the cat in the jugular with a pair of scissors.  _ That’s pretty brave for an animal of his build.  _ As the tape rolled, the Spartan couldn’t help but admire his natural talent. He was remarkably graceful, not even throwing any pedestrians off their course as he made his escape.  _ He could probably run an O course faster than an ODST. _

Despite the herbivore’s efforts, it was not enough, and the Bull cop was catching up due to the citizens parting. It would have been a straight shot for Hoover, but the Gazelle wasn’t giving up just yet. The perp spotted a female Otter and ruthlessly shoved her into the busy street.

Seeing this, Hoover only had moments to make a life or death decision. Keep after the Gazelle and finish the job, or divert his course and save the civilian. He chose the latter and gave his life in the process.  _ Would I have chosen her over the mission? Sure he saved her, but that bastard is still out there.  _ Since the funeral, Tina had been combing through any information she could get her hands on.  _ Nothing. Not a single file on this guy except this video.  _ The Gazelle had been wearing a blue medical mask at the time, making it impossible to cross reference with any official records.

Tina started the film again, this time going frame by frame, scrutinizing every pixel before her. She zoomed in when the herbivore fully extended during his shove. His white long sleeve shirt, sprinkled with blood, pulled up just enough to show a slight discoloration on the fur of his left forearm. The Spartan increased the contrast to get a better look at just what the mark was.  _ Is that… the tip of a leaf? _

-

The Pit could feel himself getting weaker. When the Panda had come in and let him out for fresh air and a talk, he struggled to get out of his cot. All he had been eating was light soup, fruits, and vegetables for his meals.  _ I haven’t had meat in weeks.  _ At least, he thought it had been weeks. There was no way for him to get in touch with the outside world. Ever since the Spartan had dragged him here he’d been kept under lock and key, completely separated from the rest of the patients unless under direct supervision.

A metallic plodding came down the concrete floor of the hospital hall. The Pit knew right away it would be the monster once again. After a few heavy knocks, the being walked in. In his hand was a lidded platter. From the scent the Pit already knew what it was.  _ Meat. _

This was a true test for all of James’ hard work. It was December now and he needed to keep up his timeline. This had to work. Before even addressing the dog, he brought up a chair beside his cot. The Pit responded by scooting away. James tentatively raised his titanium hand, as to not spook the canine, and pulled away the lid. There on the platter lay a perfect medium rare steak with grilled vegetables and mashed potatoes. The Pit had done a quick inspection of the plate before relocking his eyes on the olive helmet.

“I haven’t done anything to it. I promise.” James rubbled. The Pit kept his guard up nonetheless. “Here, I’ll show you.” The goliath took up the plate’s utensils and cut a piece off the end meat. A light trim of fat came with the slice and James popped up his helmet just enough to put the fork in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed purposefully before the dog, showing him the meal could be trusted. The Pit began to tremble at the sight.

“It’s all yours. Just take it.” James extended the platter to the canine.

The Pit’s trembling intensified until he could control it no longer. He finally made his move when he reached underneath his cot, pulled out his bedpan, and began violently vomiting into it. The meat had become absolutely disgusting in his eyes. They watered as he desperately tried to get the stench of cooked flesh out of his nose. Something had changed in him, and he didn’t know what it was.

A barely noticeable smirk of satisfaction pulled at James’ lip. “The doctor will be in with something to settle your stomach.” He cut off another piece before putting it in his mouth and securing his helmet. The Pit listened, his head still in the pan, as the sound of titanium pounding on the concrete became quieter and quieter. Finally, he was alone once again with the sound of his raspy breath, and the smell of secondhand soup.


	18. An Explanation

I know that I am probably doing this at the worst possible time. I have two essays, back-to-back, due within the week and have started neither of them. I have started Chapter 18 four different ways and I have hung three so far (the fourth is on the noose). I am not happy with them. I did not exactly feel happy writing them. I will not continue writing them until I do. Currently, I am reading Stephen King's _On Writing,_ and it has been an eye-opening experience for me as a young author. I started writing _Welcome to The Jungle_ with love and passion. I still have the love for the work, and I am constantly tweaking the story in my head, but the passion has dissipated over these past two months. Let me be clear, **I am not done with this work** , but I might need to take a longer break to refine my writing before I come back to it. I love it too much to half-ass it even a little bit. Thank you to everyone who has cared enough to read it thus far, and I hope that you will still be around when this work returns. Keep your powder dry and stay frosty. - Mark


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